MMiMWIMMai*! 






'.^^i 


d 


mik m 


t^m 








t 


(^1 


Km 




Class ' DCi2.n 
Book. -C^T? 



n? 



Copyright}!^. 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSm 



The Old Cevenol 



By 



Rabaut Saint-Etienne 



n 



Translated from the French 
By 

Alfred E. Seddon 



a 



CINCINNATI, O. 

THE STANDARD PUBLISHING COMPANY 

1911 






Copyright, 1911 
The Standard Publishing Companjr 



©CI.A297058 



PREFACE 



I am glad that the editor o£ the Christian Standard 
proposes to pubhsh such Hterature as will acquaint Chris- 
tians in America with the noble struggles of French Chris- 
tians against the Papacy. There are two periods especially 
that will form instructive and timely reading. The period 
of the Albigensian persecution, and the period during the 
vahdity of the Edict of Nantes, and for a hundred years 
subsequent to its revocation. 

The story of "The Old Cevenol" is one of the most 
popular works in the Sunday-school libraries of the Prot- 
estant churches of France. It was written by Rabaut Saint- 
Etienne, a famous and eloquent Protestant preacher, and 
the son of a preacher — Paul Rabaut — whose faithful min- 
istry to "The Church of the Desert," as a colleague of that 
apostolic man, Antoine Court, marks him as one of the 
most valiant of the heroic defenders of the faith in those 
tragic days. The first edition of the book was published 
about ten years before the great French Revolution, and 
consequently during a period when the infamous perse- 
cuting laws stained the statute-book of France. "The Old 
Cevenol" is a story. Ambroise Borely is a fictitious hero, 
but the story is a faithful description of the experiences 
endured by Christians in France under the "Revocation." 
I believe the book has been translated into English. I have 

not seen the English edition. I have found both pleasure 

5 



6 PREFACE 

and profit in translating it myself, and this independent 
translation will avoid all possible interference with any 
rights that may exist of the English translator. The edition 
from which I translate is edited by Pastor Charles Dardier, 
published by the Societe des livres religieux at Toulouse, 
and is dated 1893. The editor closes his preface with the 
following words, which are almost as appropriate in Amer- 
ica as in France : 

In publishing the present volume, we have had special regard 
to the young Protestants of our own day. They are the hope of 
our churches, and we trust they will find in this work not only 
interest, but also profit. The circumstances in the midst of which 
they are growing up are not, thank God, as tragic as formerly; 
but they are always solemn, sometimes difficult. It is not well that 
they should forget, or be ignorant of, the spiritual legacy that our 
fathers have bequeathed to us, at the price of their blood 

Alfred E. Seddon. 
EcoLE BiBLiQUE, Vanvcs (Seine), France, 1910. 



THE OLD CEVENOL 

By Rabaut Saint-Etienne. 



[Translated from the French by Alfred E. Seddon.] 

CHAPTER I. 

The London papers have made known to the world the 
death of Sieur Ambroise Borely, who was born in the 
Cevennes, the loth March, 1671, and died at London the 
14th September, 1774, at the great age of 103 years, 7 
months and 4 days. The most ordinary name becomes so 
celebrated, when he who bears it reaches such an advanced 
age, as to be the envy of mortals ; but there were special 
circumstances in the life of Borely which add to this 
natural interest ; circumstances which moved his friend — 
Mr. William Chesterman, good citizen of Spring Garden — • 
to gather together anecdotes of his life. This book having 
fallen into our hands, we read it, we were interested, and 
we translated it into French, using that honest liberty that 
every translator ought to have, to dress up the foreigner 
in the fashion of his own country. We shall faithfully re- 
produce this interesting and singular history. 

Ambroise Borely was born in the Cevennes. His father 
was a good, honest citizen of that country. He was the 
eldest of seven children. His father was moderately well- 
to-do and lived in simple fashion, looking after his farm, 
going hunting occasionally on foot followed by a single 



8 THE OLD CEVENOL 

dog, dining once or twice a week with his friends, regularly 
attending preaching on Sundays, quietly enjoying the jJres- 
ent without anxiety as to the future. At that time Louis 
XIV. was astonishing all Europe with his magnificence and 
his glory. Nothing seemed to hinder his good fortune or 
to successfully resist his arms. His generals and his min- 
isters were all that he could wish. The brilliant entertain- 
ments given at his court were like the enchantments of 
fairyland. One might almost say the mountains became 
plains before him, for everywhere his will was anticipated 
and executed with a promptitude that was perfectly mar- 
velous. 

As is well known, those who were around him took ad- 
vantage of his impetuosity to obtain his authority for the 
revocation of the Edict of Nantes. He was the kind of 
monarch to obtain such a concession from. He loved to 
attain his end and had no scruples about the means em 
ployed, and he insisted that his commands should be in- 
stantly obeyed. A patriotic Englishman has no occasion 
to complain of a measure that has proved so advantageous; 
to his country, and, as a good citizen, I can not but hope 
that in France they may continue to imagine that this revo- 
cation is an admirable stroke of policy. 

The day having been fixed on which everybody should 
be requested to become converted, troops were immediately 
sent forth to back up that request. All France knew what 
prodigies had been wrought by the soldiers, and when, in 
the little town where Hyacinthe Borely, father of Ambroise, 
lived, they learned that two battalions of missionaries had 
arrived, there was a general alarm. The commanding 
officer did his duty in fine style. He summoned the in- 
habitants to meet on the public square, and he there in- 
formed them that he had come to convert them, and that 
he proposed to do so with the aid of the honest men who 



THE OLD CEVENOL 9 

had come with him. He trusted they would not oppose the 
wishes of the king, but, if they were obstinate and refused 
to return to the bosom of the church, they would be per- 
suaded to do so by sundry pains and calamities. Many of 
his hearers found this short sermon so eloquent that they 
did not hesitate for one moment to do all that the com- 
mander advised, but a great number of obstinate persons 
closed their eyes to the dazzling light that beamed from 
the arguments of this missionary and refused to be con- 
verted. It was then that a free rein was given to the 
soldiers to proceed in their work of conversion, who, for 
the great good of the heretics, tortured them with all the 
fury with which the demons torture the damned. 

You would hardly believe what Ambroise used to tell 
about the deeds of which he had been witness and which 
were reported on all sides. The soldiers were permitted 
to do just what they pleased, provided, it was said, that 
they did not kill the people. But they sometimes found it 
difificult to place such restraint on their zeal as, after con- 
ducting their victims to the very threshold of the tomb, to 
prevent them stepping over it. They heaped violence on 
violence. They poured boiling water in the mouths of 
some; they stripped others naked and stretched them in 
front of a fire and turned them as on a spit; they made 
others hold red-hot coals in their closed hands. In each 
house was found a different kind of torture, according to 
the inventive genius of those who undertook the work of 
conversion. Here they plunged people dow'n a well, there 
they stuck pins down the finger-nails of the heretics, or 
they sprinkled gunpowder in the ears of people and fired 
it. They put the naked legs of some in boots filled with 
grease, and then stood them before a fierce fire until they 
fell fainting. They rubbed salt and vinegar into the 
wounds they had made; they dropped hot melted tallow 



10 THE OLD CEVENOL 

into eyes, and, in a word, whatever torture human barbarity- 
has inventeu during centuries was practiced here. 

All the laws of modesty and of nature were violated by 
the unbridled soldiery, who, in other campaigns, had been 
taught, and even commanded, to commit acts of most 
striking injustice. From nursing mothers they took their 
infants, leaving them to be distressed by the accumulation 
of milk in their breasts. Sometimes they would tie the 
mother to a bedpost and place the infant a little distance 
off, so that the distress of the infant might increase the 
distress of the mother. The towns resounded with the 
frantic cries of victims in agony, the profanity of the 
soldiers and the cries and moans of the Huguenots. The 
remotest deserts no longer served for an asylum ; they were 
chased like wild beasts, bringing back the fugitives to ex- 
pose" th'em to a thousand tortures. 

The most outrageous pillage accompanied these barbar- 
ities. Furniture, utensils, provisions were thrown out into 
the street. The soldiers stabled their horses in the parlors, 
and made litters for them with articles of silk and cotton, 
or on sheets of Holland cloth. The soldiers amused them- 
selves by feeding their horses with the provisions from the 
family larder, whilst they left the families to suffer the 
horrors of famine. Such scenes, being enacted at the same 
timiC in all the houses in the town, would lead one to beheve 
that France had been delivered over to a band of cannibals. 
After the art of conversion had been brought to perfection 
by a year of practice, it came to form a part of the regular 
military discipline. The officer gave his orders for the 
tortures, and the soldier who betrayed any weakness was 
punished. Under such a condition of things all h'earts 
seemed to become insensible to pity, and the minds of men 
were possessed with madness. Thus it came to pass that 
France, in what has been called her best days, presented 



THE OLD CEVENOL 11 

to mankind an exhibition more outrageous than the scenes 
of "The Spanish Fury" in America. Even the day of St. 
Bartholomew was less horrible and less dishonorable, for 
that was just one day, and the court which gave the orders 
countermanded them two days later; but the delirium of 
the Revocation lasted for several years, and if it is true, 
as we are assured, that the laws which authorized it have 
still their apologists in France, it is evident that this mad- 
ness has prevailed for a century. 

Scenes like these being enacted in the town where Hya- 
cinthe Borely lived, you will well understand that he was 
not spared. When his provisions had been consumed, his 
wife, although about again to become a mother, was driven 
out of her home, followed by her weeping children. She 
took refuge in the home of one of her sisters, which, at 
that moment, was not occupied by the dragoons. Hyacinthe 
Borely, going to get the keys of his abandoned home, was 
arrested by the* soldiers, tied up to the chimney and treated 
so cruelly that he expired before the day was out. Am- 
broise was tied to the foot of the bed, where, helplessly, 
he wept as he beheld the agony of his dying father. After 
awhile the work of conversion had sufficiently advanced in 
the town. Everybody was either Roman Catholic, or dead, 
or fled to the woods, or shut up in dungeons. So the 
troops went on their way to another town, just as if nothing 
had happened. They would report to King Louis XIV. 
that everybody had been converted, and the king believed 
it to be a fact. It is a matter of historic record that, at that 
period, the king would, at his levee, report to the assembled 
courtiers the rapidity with which the work of conversion 
went forward, and congratulate himself on the extreme 
ease with which the work was accomplished. 



CHAPTER II. 

Hardly had the troops retired from the town, than the 
Protestants returned to their former rehgious behefs. 
Many of them had fled in order to escape the penahies they 
had been condemned to. Some of these were arrested at 
the frontier and condemned to death or to hfelong impris- 
onment. Others, known to have returned to their heresies, 
were transported. Thus, within. the space of two months, 
this httle town (prior to this time very populous) was re- 
duced to about a third of its former population. 

The mother of Ambroise, who had kept in hiding, came 
back with her children to her home. She tried to save 
something from the ruin of her fortune. She made ar- 
rangements with new renters, for the old ones had been 
ruined. She bought a few articles of furniture; no very 
difhcult matter, for so many people had fled from their 
homes, and, keeping herself quietly hidden in her own 
home, succeeded for some time in escaping the vigilance of 
the priests. It was in these moments of tranquility that she 
commenced to realize most bitterly the depth of her own 
sorrow, for until then it had seemed to be drowned in the 
general consternation. She found herself alone, robbed 
of a tender, virtuous and much-beloved husband and pro- 
tector, with the responsibility of a large family of young 
children, and separated from many of her relatives and 
most intimate friends who had fled to foreign lands. She 
was, moreover, deprived of the necessary means to provide 
for the wants of her family. Great troubles make great 
souls. The souls that are not crushed by afflictions rise by 
12 



THE OLD CEVENOL 13 

them, and nothing contributes more to sustain our strength 
than to feel that we are strong. The widow of Hyacinthe 
Borely realized that her only resource was her own courage. 
She faced her misfortunes boldly. She found in the very 
cares that her family required the energy for new efforts. 

There was, however, one kind of evil against which she 
had no defense. Her children were the only consolation 
left to her, and she trembled lest they should be taken 
away from her. Those were times when natural law was 
ignored, and led to the violation of all law. People seemed 
to think that everything was lawful to compel people to 
enter heaven according to the ideas of the Church of Rome. 
As a consequence, the greatest injustice was practiced, on 
the plea that it was the greatest love. What seems to us 
most cruel was held by the church to be most humane and 
just. To snatch a child from its parents was an act of be- 
nevolence. These principles had been affirmed by solemn 
laws, which France appears to honor and cherish, since she 
still retains them on her statute-book. 

These fears that oppressed the heart of Ambroise's 
mother urged her to seek the means of escaping them. She 
believed that she could not do better than, by her in- 
structions, to arm them against the evils that threatened 
them. Ambroise, the eldest, profited especially by her 
teaching, and she had the joy of perceiving in him, with the 
features of his father, of whom he reminded her, the sa ne 
character and indications of the same virtues. 



CHAPTER III. 

Ambroise was now nearly fifteen, yet he knew no trade. 
He could read and write very well, thanks to the care of 
his mother and the attention that his uncle had given to 
his education. He had been taught to fear God and to do 
good to his fellow-men. He was honest, outspoken and 
generous. He had an attractive appearance and his face 
gave indication of the goodness of his heart. With such 
talents and habits as he gave evidence of, there seemed to 
be no career in life that he might not aspire to. It was 
time now that he should think about his future, and indeed 
the matter occupied his thoughts very seriously. But he 
found the choice of a profession a difficult problem. How- 
ever, as his grandfather had been a great lawyer, and as 
this profession was one very highly respected, especially in 
small towns, he first of all decided to follow that profession. 
So he called on a lawyer whom he knew in order to tell 
him of his intentions and to consult him about the matter. 
He thought perhaps that his friend might be willing to take 
him into his office, where he might learn the first principles 
of the profession. The lawyer was exceedingly kind to Am- 
broise, but told him that the profession of the law was for- 
bidden to Protestants, and consequently by studying the law 
he would only be losing valuable time which he might more 
profitably employ in some other profession. The young 
man was surprised to hear this, and greatly disappointed 
thus to find his ambitions thwarted, but he replied that if 
the career of a lawyer was not open to him, he would at 

least like to be a procurator or notary, and that he would 
14 



THE OLD CEVENOL 15 

be glad to serve his apprenticeship in his friend's office. 
The lawyer told him that even that could not be ; that there 
were several royal decrees forbidding to Protestants the 
professions of procurator and notary, and, what is more, he 
would not even be allowed to take Ambroise as a clerk in 
his office, as there was another statute forbidding lawyers 
to employ Protestant clerks, under a penalty of a fine of 
one thousand livres. "A'ly friend," said he finally, "give up 
the idea of entering the law and of wearing the black robe; 
the law does not permit you to be even a bailiff, a sergeant, 
a constable, or so much as a bailifT's man ; the sanctuary of 
justice must not in any way be contaminated by heresy." 
Ambroise, who had a good deal of sense for his years, 
thought it was very singular that Protestant opinions should 
disqualify a man from studying the quirks of the law. He 
was so tickled at the absurdity of it that, for the moment, 
he forgot his disappointment and went out of the office 
roaring with laughter. "Well," said he to himself, "if I 
can not be a lawyer, I will be a doctor ; for, after all, it is 
a better thing to devote one's life to healing the sicknesses 
of men than to be everlastingly occupied with their quar- 
rels and follies." 

With this thought in his mind, Ambroise went straight 
to the house of a doctor, and was still laughing as he told 
of his adventure with the lawyer. He told the doctor that 
he was really not sorry for this disappointment caused by 
the royal proclamations, since it had led him to turn his 
attention to a profession infinitely more noble and useful. 
The physician agreed with Ambroise that his was the 
noblest of all professions. "The more noble and lofty char- 
acter of our profession," said he, "makes it incumbent on 
us to have great care to keep clear of all miserable heretics 
who, by their erroneous opinions, would contaminate the 
pure truthfulness of the physician's soul. For that reason, 



16 THE OLD CEVENOL 

Pere la Chaise and Monseigneur de Louvois have ordained 
that, in order to be a good doctor, one must be a Catholic." 
Ambroise naturally inquired if Esculapius, Hippocrates and 
Galen were Catholics. "No," replied the doctor, "they were 
pagans, and I can not understand why God permitted them 
to attain such skill in their profession, but then that hap- 
pened in the age of miracles, and, since the age of miracles 
is past, it is perfectly clear that only Catholics can possibly 
be competent doctors. Moreover, there is a royal decree 
making it unlawful to call in a Protestant physician to a 
sick person. Yes, my friend, it is dated the 6th of August, 
1685, and it furnishes an admirable proof of the wisdom 
of Pere la Chaise, for, between ourselves, I personally do 
not see why a Protestant could not be a lawyer. In order 
to judge whether a thing is good or bad, it does not matter 
what a man's religion is, but a Protestant physician is 
nothing less than a social plague. If, for instance, there 
were any Protestant physicians here, that would be the 
source of two evils. First, I might perhaps be less fre- 
quently called in to attend the sick; that itself would be a 
public calamity, and, secondly, since the profession of law- 
yer is forbidden to the Protestants, the number of physi- 
cians of the so-called reformed religion would increase to 
such an extent that very few Catholics would follow that 
fine profession. Now, it is easy to see how disastrous that 
would be to the public health, because the physicians of 
the so-called reformed religion Vv^ould hardly take the 
trouble to notify the sick of their serious condition, so that 
the priest might be called in to administer the sacraments. 
This is the principal reason for the prohibition of Protestant 
physicians, alleged in the king's decreee. The great piety 
of the Reverend Pere la Chaise constrains him, in his wis- 
dom, to secure the salvation of the faithful. It is not that 
he wishes to aggrandize his society; that has never been 



THE OLD CEVENOL 17 

the object of the Jesuits. He does not take earthly things 
hito consideration ; he turns his thoughts toward heaven, 
and he fain would constrain you to enter there in spite of 
yourselves. As for myself, I approve of this proclamation 
of the king with all my heart; before it was published I was 
starving. There were three old quacks who were doing all 
the business ; they have fled to Holland or to England, and 
now I am left alone; the sick must apply to me." 

Ambroise was surprised to find that laws which can only 
be good in so far as they contribute to the general well- 
being, are judged by individuals to be good just in so far as 
they favor personal interest. He also was surprised to find 
that it was necessary to be a Catholic in order to be per- 
mitted to heal the sick. "K I were sick," said he, "I should 
not ask what is the religion of my doctor. I should simply 
ask if he is skillful. Pere la Chaise seems to have reason 
for thinking otherwise." 

Whilst reflecting thus, Ambroise left the doctor, and, as 
his head was filled with the many fine things that had been 
said about the medical profession, he took a notion to go 
into a drugstore. "Here," said he, "I shall not find the 
same difficulties; apothecaries are not consulted by sick 
people, and, consequently, they would not be in a position 
to hinder them from receiving the sacrament. The sale of 
drugs and the distribution of remedies have not any influ- 
ence whatever on matters of faith and salvation, and the 
Jesuits, who are so concerned about the everlasting happi- 
ness of souls, can hardly find a pretext for depriving us of 
this modest profession. It is true, it is not quite so honor- 
able. I would certainly rather give orders than execute 
them ; write prescriptions than mix them up ; but since my 
religion excludes me from the honors, I must submit myself 
to destiny." 

He had scarcely finished these reflections when he found 

2 



18 THE OLD CEVENOL 

himself in front of an apothecary's shop. His decision was 
taken. He entered the store and presented himself to the 
apothecary in a most courteous manner. The man of drugs 
asked him what he wanted. Ambroise frankly told him 
what he had come for, explaining his embarrassment; how, 
not being permitted to be either lawyer, or procurator, or 
sheriff's officer, or notary, or assessor, or attorney, or 
sergeant, or constable, or doctor, he had called to find out 
whether it would be possible for him to be an apothecary. 
He explained with childlike innocence the reasons that led 
him to believe that a Protestant could sell drugs without 
imperiling the eternal salvation of his neighbors; but he 
soon found out that he was mistaken. 

"What! another royal proclamation!" cried poor Am- 
"broise. 

"Well, very nearly so, my friend. There is an edict of 
the king, dated the 15th September, 1685, which forbids all 
surgeons and apothecaries of the so-called reformed religion 
to exercise their arts." 

"But what can be the reason of this prohibition?" 

"It is that, as apothecaries are sometimes called in to see 
sick people, probably five or six times a year, and as they 
have some acquaintance with theology, they might, by their 
arguments, keep Protestants from emhracmg the Catholic 
religion. Thus it is prudent, having regard to the salvation 
of the sick, that none but Catholics should be permitted to 
approach them." 

Ambroise, who had already anticipated this reply, said: 
"H that is so, and those that surround the sick person 
must be Catholics, his servants should be Catholics also." 

"Doubtless," replied the apothecary. "In fact, there 
exists a royal decree that forbids the adherents of the so- 
called reformed religion employing any other than Catholics 
as domestic servants. The infraction of this law involves a 



THE OLD CEVENOL 19 

penalty of a fine of one thousand livres for the employer, 
and the punishment for the servant is more severe. If a 
man, he is sent to the galleys; if a woman, she is whipped 
and branded' with a fieur de lys. You can readily see how 
necessary this is. The Catholic servant is a spy in the 
Protestant household, and can reveal everything that goes 
on in the family to the priest at the confessional, and the 
Jesuits will not fail to report everything of importance to 
Pere la Chaise." 

"Pere la Chaise again," said Ambrose. "And it is he 
who draws up all these royal proclamations ?" 

"Yes, my friend; that shows his zeal for the salvation 
of souls. It is on that account that he takes so many pre- 
cautions to stamp out heresy. It is for this reason that all 
Protestant mid wives are forbidden to exercise their profes- 
sion by royal declaration. It is true that, in some localities, 
there are none but Protestant midwives, and several women, 
in giving birth to a child, have died for lack of help, but 
then that is only temporal death ; it is not eternal death, and 
the state looks on temporal death as a very ■ small matter. 
As you see, there are still people left behind in the country, 
in spite of the great numbers that have been killed and who 
have fled the country. It was formerly believed that the 
strength of an empire consisted in its population, but that 
fallacy is now exploded. The Jesuits have proved that a 
state can not fail to be prosperous if the king's confessor is 
a Jesuit, and if the state is respectfully submissive to the will 
of Rome." 

"I see," said Ambroise. "So the kingdom of England 
must necessarily perish, and the English can never gain the 
victory over us." 

"They have beaten us, it is true, latterly," said the apoth- 
ecary, "but that was to punish us for our sins, and to prevent 
us from falling into that sinful pride which they exhibit 



20 THE OLD CEVENOL 

after their victories. His Holiness, the pope, tells us that, 
if they triumph on the earth, we shall triumph in heaven." 

Ambroise had met with so many rebuffs during the day 
that he began to feel extremely exhausted. He was so 
oppressed by the difficulties that surrounded him, and so 
preoccupied with his own gloomy thoughts, that he hardly 
listened to the apothecary's further remarks, and walked 
out of the store with less politeness than he had entered. 
He went home greatly perplexed as to what he could do. 
"Well, never mind," said he to himself, "I must not be dis- 
couraged. Maybe there are still two or three professions 
left. Who knows but what there may be still some means 
left to live in the world without being either a physician, 
or surgeon, or accoucheur, or apothecary, or lawyer, or 
procurator, or notary, or sheriff's officer, or sergeant, or 
bailiff's man, or purveyor to the king, or director, or comp- 
troller, or clerk, or constable, or servant, or steward of ec- 
clesiastical property, etc., etc., etc. 

Poor Ambroise and his coreligionists were in a bad case. 
It is true that to admit a Protestant to the right to marry, 
or to enter into any of the prohibited callings, all that was 
necessary was to comply with some Catholic rite, which 
compliance might be attested by witnesses who were often 
most unscrupulous, and a certificate of orthodoxy could be 
purchased at very small cost. But the sad consequence of 
such a condition of things was that all the places, the honors, 
the rights of citizenship, all places of public confidence and 
responsibility, were available to the Protestant who violated 
his conscience, or for those who considered all religious 
observance as unmeaning ceremony, whilst the man of 
tender conscience, or of soul too lofty to stoop to even the 
shadow of a falsehood, was the man who had to bear the 
penalty of his integrity. His nobility of soul was the cause 
of his being dealt with as a criminal. 



CHAPTER IV. 

Our young Cevenol slept very little that night. He lay 
awake trying to solve the difficult question of the choice of 
a profession. Amongst the few careers which remained 
open to him he seemed most disposed to the military profes- 
sion. As soon as his mother began to stir, he went into her 
room and told her of all his disappointments of the previous 
day, and the embarrassment in which he found himself as to 
the choice of a profession. He asked her what she thought 
about the army, and whether he might not, with wisdom and 
courage, in the profession of arms, succeed in obtaining pro- 
motion. At any rate, the army was not closed against Prot- 
estants. 

"I hope, my son," said his mother, "that in the choice 
of a profession you will do nothing without consulting me. 
I want to leave you perfectly free to make your own choice, 
but you have need of my experience. It is advice, not com- 
mands, that I would give you. Whilst it is perfectly true 
that the military profession is not directly forbidden to Prot- 
estants, yet the king has made it known that he proposes to 
reserve his favors for Catholics alone. Now, as the favors 
of a prince ought never to be other than acts of justice and 
rewards for service, it is as though he had declared that he 
does not intend to reward the services of his Protestant 
subjects. You see, therefore, that, in the army, you could 
never expect any promotion, and, as a matter of fact, the 
Protestant officers who are now in the army are all languish- 
ing in subordinate positions. The way they have been 

treated has resulted in disgusting them with the service 

21 



22 THE OLD CEVENOL 

altogether, and this, added to the persecution of their people, 
has led many of them to flee into foreign countries which 
now can boast several regiments composed exclusively of 
valiant Frenchmen." 

[The translator of this story, not willing to trouble his 
readers with footnotes, will, from time to time, embody in 
the text occasional valuable items not found in the original 
text. At this point, for instance, the French editor of the 
work has made the following remark: "How many brave 
soldiers, highly educated engineers, good officers, great 
captains, have passed over to the enemy and carried with 
them their tribute of valor and skill ! Such, for instance, 
as the Schombergs, the Galloways, the Chanclos, the 
Deshayes, the Dumoulins, the Ligoniers, and many others. 
How many people, born for other callings, have been forced 
to abandon them, and, in despair, have turned against their 
country. To be just, v/e can not altogether blame them for 
the evils they have done. Does not the blame belong rather 
to those who robbed them of their goods and their honors 
and tortured their bodies?"] 

The good mother, resuming her advice to her son, said: 
"You must also take into account, ray dear boy, the in- 
evitable unpleasantnesses with your comrades and the dis- 
putes in which you would surely be involved on the score 
of your religion. The folly of the Government in perse- 
cuting the Protestants has again aroused the social animosi- 
ties that had almost died out. The question of personal 
interest would occasionally come in to embitter the situation. 
You would find comrades mean enough to take advantage of 
your religion to secure their own advancement at your ex- 
pense. And,' again, remember, my son, if you enter the 
service, you must make up your mind some day to be the 
perpetrator of the atrocities that have brought desolation 
to your own unfortunate family. You have seen the king's 



THE OLD CEVENOL 23-. 

soldiers inundate this province. The day will come when 
you may be put in garrison in these desolated cantons, a, 
barbarous superior officer will take a pleasure in command- 
ing you to execute cruel orders against your own brothers ; 
you could not execute them without groaning. You, a 
brave man, would be sent against unarmed people ; you 
would have to do duty as constable and executioner. You 
would see your fellow-soldiers (who ought to have no other 
task than to repel the enemies of their country) rage in their 
fury against old men, women and children. You would be 
forced to be a witness of these barbarities, and, as you turn 
away with a sigh, you would say : Tt is thus that I formerly 
saw my own family tormented ; it was to such evils as these 
that my own venerable father succumbed.' " 

Ambroise could no longer endure the awful vision that 
his mother's words conjured up before his imagination. He 
cried out and begged his mother to say no more, and pro- 
tested vehemently that at once and forever he renounced all 
thought of military service; "but tell me what to do," said 
he. "You see my embarrassment. Several times I have 
entertained the thought of leaving my ungrateful country,, 
but the thought of leaving you here alone in this proscribed 
land has always turned me from that purpose ; my troubles 
seem lighter when I share them with you ; voices not un- 
worthy bid me go, but others even more noble bid me stay." 

The mother replied: "If you possess that courage that 
is so necessary to persons that are in an unfortunate posi- 
tion, you would feel that every profession is honorable to 
the man that pursues it honorably." 

"I know," said Ambroise, "that I shall have to lower my 
ambitions, and it will cost me something to do it; but, if I 
keep my religion and my conscience, I shall have gained 
everything. Unfortunates such as we can not afford to 
indulge in dreams of ambition ; let me but live to to be your 



24 THE OLD CEVENOL 

consolation, for that from now. shall be my highest ambi- 
tion." 

"That is the reply I expected of you, my dear boy. Yes, 
you will have to take to some trade, and in your choice you 
must consult your circumstances and your conscience. You 

know M. de S ; he is a friend to us ; ask his advice, and, 

whatever happens, never lose sight of your duty to God, to 
your religion and to the most loving of mothers." 

Ambroise went out to consult his friend, who very much 
astonished him by informing him that there was hardly any 
respectable profession that was not forbidden to Protes- 
tants. They could not be either printers or booksellers or 
goldsmiths, and as for the manual trades, they also were 
forbidden, although in an indirect manner. He would find 
it difficult to find an artisan who would be willing to take a 
Protestant as an apprentice, for the ordinances were very 
severe on that point. Protestant artisans were forbidden to 
take apprentices of their own sect, and it was presumed 
that young Protestants would not be willing to enter into 
the service of a Catholic master. 

"Explain to me, I beg you," said Ambroise, "the reason 
of all these unjust laws. I can not believe that the king 
knows of all these iniquities, and that, of his own free will, 
he issues proclamations restraining the liberties of his sub- 
jects, reducing them to beggary and compelling them to 
leave the country." 

"I will tell you," replied his friend. "As a matter of 
fact, the king does not know half the cruelties that are com- 
mitted in his name, and maybe he closes his eyes to the 
injustice of the other half. It is unfortunate for him that 
he knows so little of the true interests of his people, and 
that he does not realize that, in permitting these useless out- 
rages, he is in fact casting dishonor on one of the most 
glorious reigns known to history, and that he is causing the 



THE OLD CEVENOL 25 

wealth and glory of his country to pass over to the enemy. 
But what is most deplorable of all is that, whilst the whole 
of Europe clearly sees that the Jesuits are the authors of 
all these vexations, our king is so blind that he can not 
perceive it." 

Ambroise joined with his friend in deploring the weak- 
ness of kings and the misfortunes of the people. "Must I, 
then," he asked, "be deprived of a trade and die of starva- 
tion, in order that the Jesuits may gain control of all the 
known world?" 

"All resources are not closed against you," said his 
friend ; "the way of commerce is still open to you. Mon- 
seigneur de Louvois has evidently overlooked that, and I 
. can foresee that the Protestants — unfortunate and ruined 
as they are to-day — will one day cause the towns and the 
provinces where they settle to flourish and prosper. Com- 
merce is honest and useful. It may be that you will be able 
some day in business to make good the losses which a hard 
persecution has inflicted upon you." 

Acting on the advice of his friend, Ambroise engaged 
himself with a business man, to whom he greatly endeared 
himself by his conduct and his agreeable manners. 

The prophecy of Ambroise's friend has been fulfilled. 
Protestants saved the business of France. The principal 
merchants of Bordeaux, Lyons and Marseilles, the most 
famous bankers of Paris, are Protestants. Protestants are 
carrying on the finest silk manufactories of Languedoc. 
These useful and oppressed subjects applied themselves to 
industry all over the kingdom, whilst their brothers who 
took refuge in England contributed to carry to perfection 
their art in the land of their exile, so that the foreign pro- 
ductions soon became the object of our emulation and envy. 



CHAPTER V. 

We have seen how devotedly attached to her rehgion 
was the mother of young Ambroise. This devoted attach- 
ment to reUgioiis opinions has been called fanaticism. And, 
as a matter of fact, can anything be more absurd than not 
to change one's opinion when invited to do so by a brigade 
of cavalry or by a troop of dragoons? It is the easiest 
thing in the world to adopt a sentiment utterly opposed to 
one entertained for forty or fifty years, and it is as clear 
as day that, although nature, governments and education 
may have contributed to make us see things in a different 
light, a prince has only to lift his finger in order that a 
hundred million subjects, if he have so many, should 
straightway think just as he does. According to Bayle, 
an ancient poet has said: "The gods make use of men as 
balls to play tennis with." The kings of England appear 
to do the same thing with the souls of their subjects, for, 
last century, within the space of thirty years, they changed 
the state religion four times. 

The editor of the edition from which this translation 
is made adds to the foregoing sarcasm a little sarcasm of 
his own, when he says : "A writer as celebrated as Bayle 
calls attention to the same fact, thus : 'When we study 
closely the history of this great kingdom (England), and 
particularly the most recent reigns, and observe how easily 
grown kings, young princes and queens have overturned 
and established religions, and when we consider the incred- 
ible facility with which Henry VHL, Edward VL, Mary 
and Elizabeth overturned the religion of the people again 

and again, one can not but blame the people for being too 
26 



THE OLD CEVENOL 27 

submissive, for thus placing both their faith and their con- 
science under the yoke.' It appears that this writer did 
not think, as do others of his own church, that the people 
ought to submit their consciences to the will of a prince. 
And yet observe, dear reader, that it is a churchman who 
thus speaks, none other than the great Bossuet, in his 
funeral oration on the death of the queen of England." 
Here the translator would like to add his remark. Bossuet 
in his statement betrays a very inadequate conception of 
the real attitude of EngHshmen towards the theological 
vagaries of Henry VHI. It is estimated that seventy thou- 
sand Englishmen and Englishwomen surrendered their 
lives rather than their consciences during the reign of 
Henry, and during the short reign of his daughter Mary 
so many were martyred for conscience' sake as to brand 
that queen with the title of "Bloody Mary." It is quite re- 
markable how clearly the Papist can grasp the principle of 
the divine right of the freedom of the human conscience 
when he fancies it tells in his favor, but how utterly blind 
he is to it when it applies to one not a member of the 
Church of Rome! Protestants were being persecuted in 
France at the very time that Bossuet was blaming the 
English people for being too submissive to their kings in 
the matter of religion; yet there does not appear to be on 
record a single word of protest from Bossuet against the 
cruel persecutions by his own church and right under his 
nose. 

But we will now return to our story. According to this 
incontestible principle- — the right of a king to coerce the 
consciences of his subjects — it is very evident that the 
prince has a perfect right to hang everybody who clings to 
opinions and prejudices they imbibed with their mother's 
milk. Obstinacy of opinion is, according to the doctrine 
of divine right, a crime punishable with death. I am very 



28 THE OLD CEVENOL 

glad to be able to state these unquestionable principles, be- 
cause by them alone can the laws be justified about which 
I am going to speak. Otherwise one might be misled 
by a weak compassion or by some compunctions on the 
score of justice. There are a good many tender-hearted 
and justice-loving people nowadays who otherwise might be 
misled. 

Ambroise had brothers and sisters younger than him- 
self, and the mother, seeing her success in educating her 
eldest son, devoted herself with increasing ardor to the 
education of the others. This education was necessarily 
limited to such teaching as she could give them at home, 
and had for its main object their training to become good 
citizens and to teach them the same principles which she 
herself held to be so dear. There was a certain old man 
who lived in that part of the country — Claude Upokrites 
by name — who held a fine office. His duty was to denounce 
people who stubbornly held to their own opinions and to 
hand them over to the executioner. His honest rewards 
came out, of the spoils from his victims. Full of holy 
avarice, this charitable inquisitor hunted up delinquents 
with great zeal, and, owing to the auspicious character of 
the country in which he operated, there was no lack of op- 
portunity for him to display his great zeal. He was not 
slow to perceive that Ambroise's mother sent none of her 
children either to the school or to the mass, and that, in 
these respects, she was violating the king's ordinances. He 
caused her to be condemned to pay the fines prescribed in 
the king's declarations. The mother paid them gladly, 
happy thus to be able to purchase the right to educate 
her own children. But these fines were repeated and cruel- 
ly increased from time to time, terribly dissipating her 
little possessions. The superiors of religious establish- 
ments, irritated by the stubborn resistance of this woman, 



THE OLD CEVENOL 29 

had recourse to the king's edict which appHed to her case. 
There was an edict which declared that widows who per- 
sisted in the "So-called Reformed Religion" a month after 
the publication of the decree should be deprived of all 
power to dispose in any way of their property, which 
should pass to their Catholic children, if they had any 
such, or, if they had not, to the nearest hospitals. "That 
is just the decree for this case," exclaimed the triumphant 
Upokrites ; and soon the edict was executed. They took 
away from the mother the right to manage her own prop- 
erty, granting to her a pension barely sufficient to live upon, 
and, conformably with the other edict of the king, all her 
children were taken from her. They were shut up in con- 
vents in distant towns, where they were so well instructed 
and catechized and so regularly flogged, as to give ground 
for the hope that, in the course of a few years, they would 
make good Catholics. It is true that, on coming out of 
the convent, they fled into foreign countries ; but at least 
the church had done what it could and had nothing to re- 
proach itself for. 

The desolate widow of the unfortunate Hyacinthe 
Borely ate the bread of tears and groaned night and day at 
the loss of her children. She was reduced to live in a mis- 
erable hovel with a few poor articles of furniture. She 
had but one consolation: that was to see Ambroise, who 
devoted to her all the time he could spare from his business. 
A new grief came to further crush her broken heart. 
Amongst her children was a beautiful little boy whom they 
had named Benjamin. Like the son of Jacob, he was the 
darling of his parents. This child was only seven and a 
half years old. He had been taken away with the others 
and placed in a convent six miles away from where his 
mother dwelt. Upokrites conceived the marvelous project 
of inducing this child to embrace the Catholic religion. 



30 THE OLD CEVENOL 

They made a great favorite of him at the convent; they 
gave him candies and pictures, and the httle Benjamin, in 
the presence of a great crowd of the faithful, abjured his 
errors with such deep contrition that it brought tears to the 
eyes of all beholders, after which he was put in possession 
of his father's property. The mother, the brothers and the 
sisters were all dispossessed, in accordance with the king's 
edict. Upokrites was named g-uardian, and managed the 
property with such integrity and delicate regard to the 
feelings of the mother as can be easily imagined. The good 
widow said with a sigh : "A child of seven is not competent 
to make choice of a religion. Such a choice demands the 
exercise of vigorous reasoning faculties, and v/as altogether 
beyond the power of poor little Benjamin, who is still play- 
ing with his toys." But she was informed that she was 
mistaken, and that there w^as nothing more reasonable since 
the promulgation of the king's decree that children at the 
age of seven could abjure the "So-called Reformed Re- 
ligion," "It is true," they admitted, "that in 1669 the king- 
thought that children should not be permitted to abjure 
a religion before the age of fourteen, but Pere la Chaise 
claims now that a child of seven years has the intelligence 
that in former days was acquired by children of thirteen 
or fourteen years. The Jesuits also claim the same thing. 
Besides this, need one be astonished that, in a country 
where the vow of chastity is taken at the age of sixteen, 
a child at the age of seven should make a vow of absolute 
and implicit faith?" Of course there was nothing to say 
against the declarations of the king, the assertions of 
Claude Upokrites, and the profound arguments of Pere la 
Chaise. The poor widow was left alone with her tears. 
They reduced her pension and her misery was extreme, but 
she must suffer in silence. 

In connection with the decree that robbed Protestant 



THE OLD CEVENOL 31 

parents of their young children, the editor appends the fol- 
lowing note : 

"The decree is dated January 12, 1686. Was there ever 
anything more unchristian and more tyrannical than to rob 
parents of their children? Fatal method, perpetuated up 
to our own days since the revocation of the Edict of 
Nantes. All the provinces have been thus desolated, but 
Poitou, Languedoc, Vivarais, Dauphiny, and especially the 
diocese of Bayeux in Normandy, furnish recent examples 
by the thousand. These executions were effected in the 
most terrible manner and gave rise to the most awful 
scenes. In order to intensify the horror of these captures, 
they were usually effected in the night. Without going 
into detail, it must suffice to give a general idea of these 
barbarities. I will refer to just one expedition, that of 
Sieur Houvet, cure of Athis in Normandy, and of his 
vicars. Verger . and Grenier. Imagine these priests, fol- 
lowed by a band of constables, flying from parish to parish, 
besieging houses under cover of darkness, bursting the 
doors open with axes, and filling the air with frightful yells 
calculated to fill the boldest with terror. Imagine their 
satellites following them, sword in hand and blasphemy 
in their mouths, overturning and breaking everything in 
their way until they at length find the object of their search, 
which is destined to be the cause of many bitter tears. 
They would pounce upon their prey with the fury of wild 
beasts, snatching it away without giving time for dressing 
and regardless of the despairing cries of father and mother. 
With extreme inhumanity they repel, insult and strike the 
unhappy father and mother, who, seeing that which they 
hold as dearest in the world snatched away from them, are 
emboldened by their despair to make some vain efforts to 
save these precious objects of their tenderness and keep 
them for their love. These abductions caused such con- 



32 THE OLD CEVENOL 

sternation and aroused such alarm in all the cantons that 
more than a thousand families fled over to England, carry- 
ing with them whatever they could carry of their efifects 
and money." 

The following note is given respecting the law that 
transferred the property of a Protestant father to a Cath- 
olic child: 

"By law dated June 17, 1681, Louis XIV. permitted the 
abjuration of children of seven years of age. He gave 
them authority to leave their parents' home and to enter 
action at law with their father, in order to oblige him to 
pay the child a pension. The law supposed, therefore, that 
a child of seven years is competent to choose between two 
religions which are subjects of dispute between the most 
learned theologians of Europe. The law permitted a child 
of seven to withdraw himself from his father's authority. 
A father ran the risk of losing his child forever if, by 
some needful severity in correcting his vicious tendencies, 
he aroused in the soul of the child a momentary spite. It 
is in such a way that the instigators of these laws disre- 
garded the dictates of natural religion and the promptings 
of instinct." 



CHAPTER VI. 

One day when Ambroise was sitting at home with his 
mother, a friend entered. From the troubled look upon his 
face one could see at once that he was the bearer of evil 
tidings. Indeed, he had come as bearer of the sad 
intelligence that Ambroise's uncle had been arrested and 
taken to prison, and that, to all appearances, he would be 
condemned to the galleys. This uncle was an honest man 
who, at a time when many others were abjuring their Prot- 
estant faith, had yielded like the rest. He had had four 
drummers quartered on him, who sought his conversion by 
beating the drums at all hours of the day and night at his 
bedside, where he lay sick. For forty-eight hours he held 
out against this new species of torture; then they tried an 
improvement on their method. They procured a big tin 
boiler which they put over the sick man's head and ham- 
mered on it constantly. They would look at their patient 
from time to time to see the effect of these arguments, and 
if the conversion was progressing satisfactorily. At length 
they had the satisfaction of seeing that the drum argument 
had proved efficacious. The uncle of Ambroise, worn out 
with fatigue, promised to sign his abjuration, which he did 
with a trembling hand and then fainted away. 

From that day the new convert was no longer troubled, 

since a signature so willingly given demonstrated, in the 

most satisfactory manner, that he was a good Catholic; but 

the poor man himself suffered such remorse on account of 

what he called his "fall" that he wept tears of penitence 

the rest of his days. The gentle Upokrites, whose official 
3 . 33 



34 THE OLD CEVENOL 

position authorized him to poke his nose into everybody's 
business, entertained a pious grudge against this man, be- 
cause his conduct gave no occasion for inflicting a fine. 
Upokrites had several complaints against him. It was a 
common practice in those happy days for the curate and the 
Upokrites of the parish to go visiting on Fridays and Sat- 
urdays among the suspected families, to find out if they 
were eating meat, and sometimes Ambroise's uncle had been 
found in fault. It is true that, as his health was delicate, 
he had procured a doctor's certificate, and therefore he 
could not lawfully be fined. There was another glorious 
custom, worthy of the splendid times in which our Cevenol 
lived. They would visit the homes of recent converts to the 
Church of Rome to take away their religious books. This 
ceremony was performed with military pomp, in order to 
show what soldiers were capable of doing. The drums 
were beaten all over the town, soldiers were picketed at the 
street crossings, and, after the search, the books that had 
been found were burned in the public square. People who 
were found to have concealed their books of devotion were 
punished severely, and good Catholics were so touched with 
the thought of these benevolent expeditions that they 
prayed God that the soldiers might find a large number of 
delinquents. The grievance that Upokrites had against 
Ambroise's uncle was not that he found in his house any 
religious books, but that he did not find any; for it must 
be confessed that the honest man had some faults, and that 
he was somewhat too eager for plunder. The hope of con- 
fiscations and fines made him capable of any meanness. 
Chance, which has now been proved to govern the world 
with so much intelligence, this time favored the holy greed 
of Upokrites. Some one happened to speak in his presence 
of the peculiarities of the uncle of Ambroise, and of his 
quiet, retired life, and declared that he was as much Prot- 



THE OLD CEVENOL 35 

estant as ever, and that he had heard him express vieep re- 
gret for his abjuration. The gentle Upokrites, who always 
had the laws against heretics at his finger-ends, asked the 
speaker, in a careless sort of manner, who was with him 
when he heard these things. The speaker named two or 
three well-known persons. The triumphant Upokrites 
thereupon concocted a scheme which he straightway began 
to put in execution. 

Here it becomes necessary to inform the reader of a 
remarkable decree of the king that bears the date of the 
22d of March, 1690. This law forbids the new converts, 
who have once abjured the "So-called Reformed Religion," 
to dare to say that they are sorry for having done it, and 
this same ordinance of the king condemns to the galleys 
any one who shall have the audacity and the temerity to 
say that they are still Huguenots ; and, lest the slow and 
stately march of justice should soften the severity of the 
penalty, by delaying it, the execution of it was entrusted 
to the Intendants. Moreover, observe, dear reader, that 
this ordinance, for which we are doubtless indebted to that 
holy man, Pere la Chaise, calls this retraction a crime, be- 
cause, forsooth, it is a crime to retract when one is free 
what one has promised when persuaded thereto by the 
swords and pistols of dragoons. According to this ordi- 
nance, Ambroise's uncle was guilty. Upokrites had already 
received the deposition of the two witnesses who had over- 
heard the remarks of the unfortunate man; and the very 
next day Jerome Borely was torn from the bosom of his 
family and placed in a dungeon. Such was the news that 
was brought to Ambroise and his mother. 

You will readily imagine the grief of this poor widow. 
When a soul is cast down by sorrow, it needs only a little 
more affliction to overwhelm it entirely. It is the last 
stroke of the ax that brings down the oak which twenty 



36 THE OLD CEVENOL 

arms have attacked. This last stroke of misfortune proved 
too great for Ambroise's mother; it completely prostrated 
her. As for Ambroise himself, he was in despair. "What!" 
he cried with sobs, "my uncle, my dear uncle, my second 
father, snatched away from us, shut up in an infected 
dungeon and loaded with chains ! My dear uncle, the most 
virtuous of men, condemned to pass the remainder of his 
days with the vilest criminals, and disgraced as though he 
were himself a criminal ! And for what, great God ! For 
having hated hypocrisy! What worse could he have de- 
served if, instead of being the best of men, he had been the 
v^^orst and had dishonored his life with the most infamous 
crimes?" The poor boy yielded to a paroxysm of tears. 
Presently he began again to moan : "Oh, my poor uncle, 
you will never be able to stand the fatigue of the convict- 
gang, the violence of the sea and the detestable food! I 
fancy I can see you, stretched on the bowsprit, your back 
bared and near you the barbarous overseer, armed with a 
tarred rope. How can God allow such things to be among 
those made in his image?" 

It may be necessary here to explain the frightful vision 
that was conjured up before the imagination of young Am- 
broise, and drove him nearly frantic with grief. So bitter 
was the zeal of the persecutors that the Protestant prisoners 
were treated worse than the actual criminals ; the most 
fatiguing places and duties were allotted to them. If, at 
the elevation of the host, when the mass was celebrated on 
board the galleys, they did not bare their heads, they were 
stretched naked on the bowsprit, and an overseer, armed 
with a tarred rope, dipped in the sea-water, thrashed them 
with all his strength. The victims' ribs resounded with the 
violence of the strokes, and at each blow the skin was torn 
in bleeding shreds. They then carried away the victim, 
half dead, to the hospital, where he was cared for until he 



THE OLD CEVENOL 37 

was sufficiently healed to go through the awful experience 
again. 

No wonder the boy was haunted, wherever he went, 
with the terrible vision of the sufferings that his good uncle 
would have to endure as a galley-slave. This frightful 
vision followed him wherever he went. Sometimes he in- 
dulged the hope that, by the intercession of friends, his 
uncle might be delivered from such a fatal destiny, and for 
a time this hope lessened his grief. At other times, losing 
all hope, he entertained the noble purpose of himself taking 
his uncle's place ; for it seemed to him that his uncle was 
more necessary than himself to his dear mother. Am- 
broise's health was very seriously affected by these things, 
and doubtless he would have become seriously sick, had it 
not been for the lawyer who previously had given him good 
advice. No one knew better than this lawyer how to 
smooth down the holy severity of certain men, and how to 
purchase immunity from the most terrible fate. This law- 
3^er succeeded in delivering Jerome Borely, but it was at the 
expense of his fortune. Upokrites had good occasion to 
be pleased with the financial arrangements proposed by the 
lawyer for the relief of Jerome Borely, whose family forgot 
their poverty in the joy of the liberty of its head. This 
joy, however, was of short duration. 

Jerome Borely was working, on shares, a farm belong- 
ing to a neighboring convent. The prior would have con- 
sidered it a great offense if a Protestant had refused to 
undertake such a charge. But it so happened that a royal 
edict, dated July 9, 1685, made it illegal for a Protestant 
to take such farms, and that for doing so a Protestant was 
liable to a fine of one thousand livres, besides heavy law 
expenses. Jerome Borely was attacked on this account. 
He might have justified himself by declaring that he was 
not a Protestant since he had abjured that faith; but his 



38 THE OLD CEVENOL 

conscience would not allow him to shield himself in that 
manner ; he would have blushed at such an infamy. It was 
these scruples of conscience that were the cause of his un- 
doing. His exhausted fortunes made it impossible for him 
to pay the fatal fine, so once more he was dragged to 
prison. For some time past he had had symptoms of dis- 
ease; his strength gave way under this new trial, and he 
became seriously ill. 



CHAPTER VII. 

The good Ambroise was filled with sorrow at the sad 
condition of his uncle, and resolved, in order to deliver him, 
to sell off a little property of which he had recently come 
into possession. He said to himself: "My uncle is my 
father's brother; he cared for me during my childhood. 
When I had the misfortune to lose my dear father, my 
poor uncle mingled his tears with ours, and in the end he 
dried ours. He has fed me with bread from his own table. 
Now I have the power, I ought to repay to him the benefits 
I have received from him." Reasoning thus, Ambroise be- 
gan to seek for a purchaser for his little property. His 
great anxiety to sell caused quite a number of particular 
friends to come forward with offers to purchase the prop- 
erty for one-half of its real value. Ambroise was himself 
so honest and sincere that he did not suspect that these 
pretended friends were just taking advantage of the sit- 
uation, and he concluded a bargain with one of them, 
indulging the hope of soon seeing his uncle and of embrac- 
ing him a thousand times. He was too joyful to sleep that 
night, and very early next morning he knocked at the door 
of a notary, asking with imxpatience to see the man of the 
law immediately on very pressing business. The notary, 
supposing that he was wanted in haste to draw up the will 
of a dying man, muttered a thousand maledictions on the 
profession that compelled him to sleep v/ith his eyes open, 
the dying man who sent to disturb his slumbers, and the 
messenger who came after him. This thought, however, 

occupied only a portion of the intellectual fibers during the 

39 



40 THE OLD CEVENOL 

process of regaining full use of his mental faculties. The 
other part of his half -awake faculties, long accustomed to 
respond with alacrity when his financial interests were 
concerned, urged him to dress with haste, lest the messenger 
might apply to another notary in the neighborhood, of 
which he was jealous. In the twinkling of an eye he had 
put on an old dressing-gown, and, rushing to the stairs, 
he appeared to Ambroise, with one foot in a slipper, the 
other in a shoe, and a large inkhorn in his hand. 
"Well, my friend, what is it? Is he very sick?" 
"Ah, sir, worse than I can tell you. His condition 
lareaks my heart. Ah, my poor uncle, when shall I see 
him at rest?" 

"For a nephew," said the notary, "you appear to be 
very much concerned. Well, tell me, have you consulted 
him?" 

"I, sir, consult him? No, I want him to know nothing 
about it. I want to surprise him." 

"But, my friend, he is the party interested; he must 
know." 

"Ah, yes, of course, he will know when the thing is 
done, when he will be no longer in a position to raise any 
objection, when I shall be in a position to compel him to 
consent to sacrifices that he would never allow if I con- 
sulted him." 

The notary began to think that he was talking either to 
a rascal or a madman, and it was not without considerable 
explanations that Ambroise succeeded in getting the notary 
to understand his intentions. He could not help admiring 
the generous disposition of the young man, and promised 
to register the contract for the sale as soon as Ambroise 
procured the necessary permission. 

"What permission?" asked Ambroise; "I am of age. 
My father is dead ; I am only too free." 



THE OLD CEVENOL 41 

"Are you not a Protestant?" 

"Yes, sir, I am, but what has that to do with the sac- 
rifices that I propose to make on my uncle's behalf?" 

"It has this much to do, that you can not dispose of 
your property without a permission from the Intendant ; 
that is, for properties up to the value of three thousand 
livres: for properties of greater value, the permission of 
the court is necessary. Now, your property being worth 
from four to five thousand livres, you will have to apply 
to the sub-delegate, who will write to the Intendant, who 
will reply to the sub-delegate, who will communicate the 
reply to you, and you will then know whether you are at 
liberty to dispose of your own property. It is true that, 
before you receive the information, your uncle will be dead, 
in all probability. It is also possible that, if the sub- 
delegate is not very favorably disposed towards you, his 
reply may not be satisfactory, or that your own relatives, 
in order to prevent you from alienating property on which 
they have cast their eyes, may write some anonymous 
letters to frustrate your purpose. There are also many 
other things that might happen, but these are the little 
annoyances that a good citizen will suffer with patience 
because of the great good and honor that he personally 
derives from the state. For you ought to understand, my 
dear Ambroise, that when citizens are thus annoyed in 
their affairs it is really good for them, and that the 
happiness of an empire consists in this, that the subjects 
should become fully persuaded that the free possession of 
their property is nothing more than a chimera." 

The notary was proceeding to discourse at great length, 
when he perceived the tears starting into the eyes of Am.- 
broise as he made a thousand lamentations for his un- 
fortunate uncle, whom he seemed to mourn as though he 
were already dead. The notary did the best he could to 



42 THE OLD CEVENOL 

console the young man, and did in fact succeed in comfort- 
ing him to some degree, for the heart of an unfortunate is 
always open to hope. Ambroise decided to see the sub- 
delegate, who lived twelve miles away. He went, but 
found that the sub-delegate had left the previous day for 
Montpellier, and that he would not return before the end 
of the week. On learning this, the young Cevenol was 
extremely depressed, but what use is it to struggle against 
destiny? One murmurs, but one submits all the same. 
Everybody who saw the unhappy Ambroise, advised him 
to exercise patience, to await the return of the sub-delegate 
and to hope in Providence. After well considering the 
situation, he came to the conclusion that that was the best 
thing that he could do. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

As Ambroise awaited the end of the longest week he 
had ever known, he sought a rehef for his sorrow by- 
making frequent visits to his uncle, the unhappy cause of it. 
His mind was possessed but with one single idea, the deliv- 
erance of his uncle. A famous lawyer lived in the little 
town, and Ambroise made up his mind to consult this 
eminent man. "I will see for myself," said he, "this 
declaration of the king; who knows, perhaps there may be 
some way of evading it and of saving the life of my uncle?" 
The lawyer confirmed all that the notary had said, and 
convinced Ambroise that he would be unable to find a 
purchaser for his property, since the law was as severe 
against the purchaser as against the vendor. 

"But," objected Ambroise, "if this law takes away 
from me the right to sell my property, it can not absolve 
me from paying my debts." 

"No," replied the lawyer, "but you would have to 
furnish legal proof of your indebtedness." 

"Ah, sir, my uncle has kept no accounts of my indebted- 
ness to him, but they are written on my heart, and, if he has 
forgotten the benefits with which he has overloaded me, 
that is all the greater reason why I should remember them." 

"That is proof of the goodness of your heart, but good- 
ness of heart does not constitute a legal claim for per- 
mission to sell one's property. In this respect an honest 
Huguenot is less forttmate than a rascal who has the good 
luck to be a Catholic." 

"At least, if I am not able to sell my property, I can 

43 



44 THE OLD CEVENOL 

give it away; and, so far as I am concerned, that amounts 
to pretty much the same thing ; for I imagine that with this 
little property it would be no very difficult thing to persuade 
M. Upokrites and his friends to dispense with the usual 
formalities." 

"No, my dear Ambroise, the law stands in your way 
again, and it forbids a gift of real estate between persons; 
thus, you are able to buy as much as you like, but you can 
not sell, and I do not see any other way for you to sell your 
property than by getting the necessary permission." 

Ambroise could not conceive it possible that there should 
be a law forbidding him to be grateful. "What!" said he; 
"I have some property; I wish to give it away to another 
because I do not care to keep it any longer, and I am not 
allowed by law to do it! This is strange indeed!" 

The lawyer then explained to him that the object of 
this law was to prevent the newly converted from escaping 
out of the kingdom. 

"So the king knows that we are in a miserable con- 
dition," said Ambroise, "since he is afraid of our running 
away ; but would it not be a wiser thing for him to seek to 
retain by benefits rather than by fear? And what is more, 
sir, it is impossible to keep people here by force. When 
once we become convinced that our country is a hard and 
cruel mother who banishes us from her bosom, one quits 
her without a sigh, in order to flee to a kinder one who will 
be a benefactor instead of a persecutor. Liberty is price- 
less, and though it cost our whole fortune to purchase it, 
the price is not too great. I understand nothing about law, 
but it seems to me that no law can oblige a subject to re- 
main in a country where he is not happy. If the king 
orders me to stay in a country, and nature, that abhors 
suffering, orders me to leave It, I may respect the king, 
but I shall certainly obey the dictates of nature." 



THE OLD CEVENOL 45 

"You are right," agreed the lawyer. "I might even 
observe that this law, that forbids Protestants to sell their 
property without permission, is open to many other objec- 
tions. It frightens the subject, because it makes him feel 
that the state is but one vast prison for him, from which 
he can not escape, and in that way it destroys the con- 
sciousness of liberty, which is the mainspring of industry. 
It reminds us too forcibly of our chains, which the author- 
ities would do well to conceal with flowers. It discourages 
the acquisition of real estate and destroys the confidence 
of the subject, who should be encouraged to engage in 
industry by the assurance that he is working for himself 
and for his children. It disturbs a large multitude of fam- 
ilies who have to sell a part of their possessions in order 
to save the rest from being completely wrecked. I know 
but one way," continued the lawyer, "of selling your 
property ; but it will take long and the costs will be heavy." 

"Never mind the costs ; never mind the costs," quickly 
cried Ambroise; "provided I have a thousand livres left 
with which to pay my uncle's fine and his expenses, I shall 
be satisfied." 

He insisted so strongly that it was agreed between them 
to arrange it in the manner suggested by the lawyer. An 
indebtedness of three or four thousand livres on the part 
of Ambroise was assumed, a writ was issued against his 
property, at the cost of about three hundred livres, and the 
domain was sold off cheap, as the domain of a bankrupt, 
so that when Ambroise had paid his uncle's fine and the 
law costs, the procurators and the lawyers, there was nothing 
at all left for himself; but he had his uncle, and that was 
enough for him. Poor Jerome Borely was taken out of 
the prison, but, in addition to the maladies from which he 
was sufifering when confined, he had there contracted a 
rheumatism which tormented him to the end of his days. 



CHAPTER IX. 

Ambroise went on his way home with bowed head and 
downcast eyes, and walked along as one in deep thought. 
He was rudely awakened from his reverie by the frightful 
bowlings of a mob. He went in the direction of the noise, 
to see what might be the cause of the tumult. Soon he 
caught sight of a crowd of constables, soldiers, priests, 
magistrates, and, in the midst of them, the executioner, 
who was dragging through the mud a naked corpse covered 
with filth and wounds. The head of the corpse was dis- 
figured beyond all recognition by the blows from sticks and 
stones which were constantly rained upon it. Ambroise 
had no need to ask what it was all about, or the meaning 
of the insults hurled against the Huguenots, and the oft- 
repeated cries: "Well done, well done; they should all be 
served like this ; they ought all to be hanged or burned." 
He could well understand that it was one of his Huguenot 
brethren who, upon his death-bed, had refused to take the 
sacrament from a Romish priest. Excited by this spectacle, 
the populace threw mud and stones against the houses and 
the stores of the Huguenots, and chased those who were 
unfortunate enough to be found by them on the streets. 
One might have supposed that an insurrection had broken 
out in the town, or that it had been delivered over to pillage 
by a victorious foe. Ambroise started to escape, but he was 
speedily recognized and could not get away quickly enough 
to escape sundry blows. He lost his cap, his face was 
covered with mud, and his coat was torn to rags, when 

happily he found a passage with a door which he slammed 
46 



THE OLD CEVENOL 47 

behind him, and thus escaped from his pursuers. The 
house where Ambroise had taken refuge faced the open 
square, and several persons had come there to witness the 
edifying spectacle. It was not without pain and fear that 
he heard the bursts of laughter and the jokes of the lookers- 
on. They pained him to his heart. In order to avoid hear- 
ing them, he went back down the passage-way and soon 
found himself in a very obscure place. A short distance 
from him two men were walking up and down the garden, 
engaged in a warm discussion. One was a Jesuit, robed in 
black, and the other was the master of the house. They 
were talking about the tumult going on in the street; 
Ambroise did not lose a word, and this is what he heard: 

"You must admit," contended the master of the house, 
"that it is cruel to be obliged to change opinion and to 
pretend, during the whole of one's life, to believe what one 
does not indeed believe in the bottom of one's heart. I 
am not at all surprised that, in the last moments of life, 
when one has no longer anything to fear, when one is no 
longer controlled by worldly interests and by the pleasures 
of a life of ease, a dying man who has no longer any reason 
to prevaricate should make confession of his real faith. 
For the life of me, I can not blame him. In our religion, 
I would rather have but a small number of true believers 
and be sure of them than to gain two or three million hypo- 
crites !" 

"Good," replied the Jesuit, "but what does it matter 
what these people believe in the bottom of their hearts, pro- 
vided only that the king is persuaded of their conversion 
and that they go to mass? You are right enough in sup- 
posing that they are unwilling converts, and no doubt the 
king himself has his suspicions of the shams, for it is un- 
doubtedly true that the large majority of them are con- 
verted only by force or for worldly reasons; but anyway, 



48 THE OLD CEVENOL 

they are in the fold of the church; we have done our duty; 
now it is God's business to convince them," 

"That is to say, reverend father, that all this violence, 
massacres and punishments have resulted in manufacturing 
a great number of hypocrites. That is a dear way of 
buying bad subjects, and I frankly avow to you that I 
prefer a good Protestant to a bad Catholic." 

"If the fathers are hypocrites, sir, the children will be 
true believers." 

'T very much doubt that, reverend father, for men are 
never so much attached to their opinions as when they find 
an attempt made to force them to abandon them. We 
naturally suspect that those who would force us to adopt 
their belief have no better arguments to support their 
creed. The very violence that they use to force their creed 
upon us becomes a proof of the superiority of our own 
belief. People become, therefore, the more attached to 
their religion by the very means adopted to force them to 
abandon it. And do you not suppose that, in the secrecy 
of the home, the parents will teach to their children the 
religion they themselves have never, in their hearts, for- 
saken? Take, for instance, this unfortunate fellow whose 
corpse is to-day dragged through the mud ; he knew the 
fate that awaited him ; he knew the shameful character 
of the proceedings, and yet the force of conviction 
prompted him to brave it all." 

"Ah, well!" replied the black-robed Jesuit, "this ex- 
ample will be a warning to others, and, even though we 
may not be successful, we are sure that exploits like these 
from time to time will keep alive among the people a 
social hatred that will produce the happiest results. For 
instance, it is now more than a month that popular feeling 
had begun to subside, tranquility had become re-established 
and a spirit of toleration was becoming manifest; so we 



THE OLD CEVENOL 49 

begin by giving a new warning — we dig up from the grave 
the corpse of some unfortunate and expose it to the insults 
of the populace, or we hang a minister, or we send a 
dozen men to the galleys, and the people are reminded 
that there are heretics whom they must hate." 

"Would it not be better, reverend father, to tolerate 
these heretics and teach the subjects of the king to love 
one another? For, after all — " 

"No, no, sir," replied the man in black impatiently. 
"No, indeed, our forefathers never did that, and they were 
not barbarians ; they were very enlightened and humane 
men, Francis I. gave us an example of the manner in 
which the tocsin should be sounded against heretics. If 
he had consulted a man like you, he would have tolerated 
these so-called reformers, and perhaps the oblivion in which 
he would have left this sect would have snuffed it out.. 
But he went to work in a much wiser way. He gave orders 
for a large and brilliant procession ; he himself marched at 
the head of it, accompanied by his son, bareheaded and in a 
very devout and humble manner ; sacred hymns were sung, 
and with the sounds of these sacred harmonies very soon 
mingled the shrieks of a number of obstinate heretics who 
were burned alive. That, sir, is what I call a good and 
vigorous policy; for you can well understand that the ex- 
ample of such a prince made a prompt and deep impression 
on the minds of the Parisian populace, and gave it the 
taste for flaming stakes for a whole century." 

The man in black assumed such a firm and haughty 
tone that the master of the house took the hint and said no 
more. It was too dangerous a thing in those fine days of 
the brilliant century in which Louis XIV. reigned to speak 
of humanity towards heretics ; for this humanity was itself 
a punishable heresy. He therefore pretended to agree with 
the ideas of the Jesuit, and the rest of the conversation was 



50 THE OLD CEVENOL 

of a very peaceful character. They admired the great 
advantage of processions, each of which is, so to speak, 
a smah army of the saints, assembhng under the banner 
of the parish; an army whose zeal makes it capable of 
undertaking any enterprise. They agreed that it was 
neither indecent nor cruel to drag a naked and bleeding 
corpse through the streets. In this connection they cited 
from Homer the example of Achilles ; they admired the 
impartial policy of the Jesuits, who forced Protestants to 
take the sacraments which they refused to the Jansenists ; 
in an undertone they admitted that this society had never 
accomplished a greater and more diplomatic move than the 
expulsion of the Protestants from the country, as the 
Protestants were expert politicians ; they observed with 
pride that now for more than a century no one had dared 
to raise his voice against a society so powerful, so wholly 
without moral scruple and so unrelenting in its acts of 
vengeance. 

At this point Ambroise,hearing a noise, hastened towards 
the door of the passage where he had found refuge. He 
opened it cautiously and made his way back home. On 
his way he overheard several heated conversations at the 
street corners. A sound of voices seemed to pervade the 
entire town, like the moaning of the sea whose waves are 
gradually sinking to a calm after a storm. For a long time 
afterwards people talked about the events of that day; for 
work had been suspended as though for a public holiday. 
In favor of such exhibitions, which our gentler manners 
have ceased to appreciate, it was urged that they kept the 
m.inds of men in vigorous action ; they gave a polish to 
manners and provided frequent holidays for the people, 
who, of course, ought not to keep at work all the time 

In further illustration of the Romish practice of insult- 
ing the dead Huguenots by dragging their corpses through 



THE OLD CEVENOL 51 

the streets, the author cites tlie following well-authenticated 

cases : 

In April, 1749, Daniel-Etienne de la Montagne, who had died 
at Catenet, in Provence, and had been buried in the country, was 
disinterred by a surgeon named Pascal Berault and others. They 
tied a cord around the neck of the corpse, and dragged it all 
through the village, to the sound of the drum and the flageolet. 
The howling multitude insulted the memory of the dead man and 
belabored the corpse with sticks ; after which they hung up the 
corpse head downwards, cut open the body, tore out the heart and 
entrails, and carried them around in procession, and finished up by 
cutting the body in four quarters. These facts are attested by the 
official report of the judge; but no one was ever punished for the 
deed. 

Claude Cabanis, a merchant of Alais, in the Cevennes, who 
had won universal esteem by the uprightness of his character, his 
talents and his charity, and had been a most useful citizen in the 
commune where he had established his business, died at Levaur the 
14th of July, 1749, and was buried at night. In spite of the vigorous 
protests of the populace, he was disinterred at the instigation of 
the "White Penitents" and cut to pieces. 

A Protestant minister, Louis Ranc, aged twenty-five years, 
having been executed at Die, in 1745, M. d'Audriffret, the sub-dele- 
gate of the Intendant. together with a grand-vicar, caused the 
dead body to be dragged through the streets, and compelled a young 
Protestant to assist the executioner in his odious task. 

The Jesuit's reasoning about the Protestants who had abjured 
their religion to save their lives reminds the author of a passage in 
a speech of the Jesuit Bourdaloue, who, in an address about charity 
to the newly converted, said : 

Do you not know, ladies, that there is an infinite number of 
poor people who are in a position of special peril ? They are but 
half converted. I say half converted because, in spite of all ex- 
ternal demonstration and the words that they have spoken, we 
must not suppose that everything necessary has been done, for, as 
a matter of fact, many have only yielded to force, and, whilst being 
Catholics outwardly, are hardly to be considered as Catholics at 
heart. 

Massillon, in a sermon on "True Worship," says: 

It is thine, O Saviour, to change the inner man, to bring back 
the hearts, to enlighten the minds of those who perhaps have sub- 
mitted only to the arms of man; that there may be only one fold, 
one shepherd, one heart and one soul in thy church. 



52 THE OLD CEVENOL 

That is to say : "Lord, we have forced them to enter the church, 
we have carried death into the bosom of three hundred thousand 
families, we have leveled an irreparable blow at the state; there 
they are within the fold, now there is nothing to do but to convert 
them ; that is thy work alone, we all acknowledge." 

With regard to the refusal of the sacrament to the Jansenists, 
the author adds the following note : 

The entire town of Melun can attest the following fact. Every- 
body remembers the scandalous scenes that were witnessed in 
France, and of which the Jesuits were the authors, in connection 
with the refusal of the sacraments. The bishop of the said town 
of Melun, Monsieur de V , a slave to Jesuitical opinions, other- 
wise a very honest man, believing sincerely that it was not his duty 
to yield on this point to superior orders, never wished to permit 

the holy sacrament to be administered to Abbe R , a Jansenist 

who was sick, and who desired the sacraments. The bishop, in 
order to have an excuse that to his mind should be satisfactory, 
and one that should relieve him of the necessity of formally re- 
fusing the sacrament, instructed his vicar. Abbe L , to make 

his round in all the parishes and to use up all the consecrated 
wafers. Unfortunately, the ciboires were well supplied, and the 
vicar, with much effort, had to eat a large number of them ; this 
caused an attack of indigestion so serious that his physician had 
great difficulty in curing him without an emetic. 



CHAPTER X. 

Ambroise made good progress in his knowledge of 
affairs. He had good business talents. Misfortune had 
developed his character and trained him to habitual thought- 
fulness ; thus, whilst young in years, he had a maturity of 
character that is usually the fruit only of long experience. 
His mother was worn with grief and the tears she had shed; 
poverty and sorrow had furrowed her features. Her long- 
continued anguish had brought on her a premature old age. 

"My son," she would sometimes say, "I have no longer 
any reason to love this world: my sorrows have weaned 
my affections from it. What better use can I make of the 
little time that remains to me than to prepare for the end 
that is fast approaching? All the time I do not spend with 
you I pass in meditation, in reading, in rendering to God 
the homage which is his due, and in doing to my fellow- 
creatures the little good that is in my power." 

Ambroise was very happy to have these pleasant talks 
with his mother, and he was never so happy as when he had 
in some way contributed to her pleasure and peace of mind. 

One evening when he went home from business he was 
extremely surprised not to find his mother there : she had 
gone out, the neighbors said, at nightfall, promising to be 
back again soon. He waited for her with anxiety; this 
anxiety increased with every moment. An oppressive sad- 
ness made his heart ache and found vent in frequent sighs. 
Soon he became possessed with the awful presentiment of 
some frightful catastrophe. This was not a false present- 
iment, for, about midnight, his mother came in, walking 

53 



54 THE OLD CEVENOL 

with great difficulty, and supported by one of her friends. 
Ambroise was about to speak some words of loving re- 
proach ; but imagine his alarm when he saw, as his mother, 
weeping, stretched out her arms to embrace him, that she 
was covered with blood. She fell fainting on his breast. 
He did everything in his power to restore her to conscious- 
ness, and at last had the happiness of seeing her open her 
eyes and come to herself. She then told him that she had 
been to the woods where a few persons had gathered for 
prayer; that they had been betrayed, and that soldiers had 
come upon them unexpectedly and had fired on them at 
short range. One-half of the assembly was composed of 
women and aged men, and had been massacred, and the 
rest had been taken prisoners. Ambroise's mother had 
been wounded by a shot beneath the ribs. Ambroise ran 
for help to a surgeon. Ah ! what bitter tears he shed when 
he learned that the wound was mortal, and that his dear 
mother had but a few hours to live. But it seemed as 
though he were doomed to drink the dregs of bitterness in 
this hour as his mother was passing away ; for the surgeon 
drew- him on one side and said : "I shall be compelled, sir, 
to do my duty and inform the parish priest of the danger 
your mother is in, in order that he may come to her with 
spiritual help. I should be punished myself if I failed to 
hand in the notice." 

Ambroise was terrified, and sought by tears and prayers 
to prevent the surgeon from giving in the fatal notice. 
But the surgeon replied that the declaration of the king 
was too explicit ; that he should render himself liable to a 
fine of three hundred livres, and that he could not run the 
risk of having to pay such a fine simply to do Ambroise this 
favor. As he said this he went towards the staircase and 
descended in great haste. 

Ambroise knew what a terrible thing the arrival of the 



THE OLD CEVENOL 55: 

priest was to a dying person, for with the priest came the 
officers of justice. Pie foresaw them with their entreaties 
and their threats; he could imagine the drawing up of the 
charge of heresy with brutal inconsideration under the very- 
eyes of the dying person. This charge he knew would be all 
the more grave because the surgeon whom he had im- 
prudently called in would most certainly inform the priest 
how his mother had received the mortal wound. The 
dying woman's attachment to her religion was well known, 
and he greatly feared that after her death his dear mother 
might be dragged through the mud of the streets and her 
body finally thrown on the rubbish heap. In such a 
moment his filial piety gave him courage and a strength. 
he could not have found under other circumstances. He 
wrapped his mother in a sheet and carried her off on his 
shoulders, in order to get her away from the persecutions 
which he foresaw. The weight of his burden was such 
that he could not go far. Finding himself in a narrow, 
crooked street opposite the door of one of his friends, he 
stopped there. His friend came down at the sound of the 
bell. With tears in his eyes, Ambroise begged an asylum 
for his dying mother ; he was even preparing to take his 
precious burden in. But in those unhappy times each one 
looked after himself, and fear of one's own misfortunes. 
made one insensible to those of others. 

"My dear Ambroise," said his friend to him, 'T can 
not do you the service you ask of me. I know the laws r 
they are severe and the officers of the law are greedy and 
pitiless. There is a decree of the king that forbids, under 
penalty of a fine of five hundred livres, the removal, under 
pretext of charity, of sick persons of the pretended re- 
formed religion. This law is unjust, I know. It treads 
all humane considerations underfoot ; I concede all that ;" 
but my fortune does not permit me to make such sacrifices,, 



■56 THE OLD CEVENOL 

and you ought, yourself, to perceive that already your 
staying so long at my door may prove my ruin." 

This was a knock-down blow to poor Ambroise ; he 
could hardly believe his ears. But his love for his mother 
gave him strength, and, taking his burden up again, he 
continued his journey. He groped his way through the 
darkness ; yet, whilst doing this heroic act, he felt as guilty 
as though he had committed some great crime. 

In a little, obscure street that led out of the town there 
was a deserted cottage. It was in this abandoned hovel 
that Ambroise took refuge. His mother was overcome 
with pain and fatigue. She was losing blood, and she 
herself knew that her end was near. 

"No, dear mother," said the son, "I can not believe that 
Providence will snatch you from my arms in so cruel a 
manner. Heaven is just, and it surely will not permit me 
to lose you at a time when I so much need your help. Ah ! 
live to be my consolation and my happiness. Allow me to 
send this man who has followed us to beg some surgeon 
to come and lend us his aid." 

"No, no, my son, it would be useless. Let me die far 
from those horrible men. . . . Their help, my son — 
perhaps they would refuse to help. Have they not always 
some royal decree to serve as a pretext for their barbarity? 
And who knows but what, in order to refuse their help, 
they would plead the royal declaration calling on physicians 
to abandon a patient who, after a second visit, should refuse 
to give up his religion? You are losing precious moments, 
my dear son. Receive here my blessing. Remember your 
mother. Try to take your brothers and sisters to a country 
where you will have liberty to worship God. . . . Preserve 
my bones from persecution by burying me in some solitary 
place — " 

The unfortunate woman's voice was failing. She beg- 



THE OLD CEVENOL . 57 

ged her son to stay in silence by her, and, after having- 
given about half an hour to prayer, she heaved her last sigh. 

Ambroise was desolate indeed. He fondly kissed the 
remains of the best of mothers. His tears fell freely upon 
her. He spoke the most touching words to her, as though 
she had heard them. In the bewilderment of his mind 
he seemed to expect each moment that she would again open 
her eyes to the light. The man who had accompanied 
Ambroise was touched with the orphan's grief, and did all 
he could to assuage the young man's sorrow. He at length 
succeeded in dragging Ambroise away from the corpse, over 
which they stretched the sheet they had brought. 

The day had dawned. The sun shone in the deserted 

cottage. Ambroise began to be afraid of the perilous 

position in which he found himself. Fear came in to divert 

his grief. He arranged with this man, in whom he could 

trust, to go to the town and procure some provisions for 

the day. Ambroise determined to watch beside his mother, 

and they arranged to go at night to a distant place to bury 

the dead. He was fortunate in not being discovered during 

the day. When the night came, aided by some relatives and 

friends, they furtively laid the remains of the good woman 

to rest. They had great difficulty in tearing Ambroise from 

his mother's grave, and it was only after he had exhausted 

himself by long-continued weeping that he at length said 

a last adieu. 

Notes to Chapter X. 

The edict revoking the Edict of Nantes forbade assemblies, 
and confiscated body and goods ; the death penalty was not ex- 
pressly decreed until the edict of July i, 1686, by Article V. of that 
edict. An order of the 12th of March, 1689, confirms this penalty, 
and further decrees that those who may not have been taken in the 
act, yet who may have been known to attend Protestant assem- 
blies, shall be sent to the galleys for life, by the military com- 
manders or the intendants of the provinces, without any legal 
formaHties or trial. What was the reason for this unheard-of 
severity, this violation of the rights of citizenship? No citizen 



58 THE OLD CEVENOL 

should be condemned to any penalty without a regular trial. The 
ordinances of Louis XIV. himself had recognized this right of 
the citizen. 

Every one will admit that it was outrageous to condemn peace- 
able citizens to the galleys — gentlemen who had even bled for their 
country — yet condemned for no other reason than that they had 
assembled together, and, in their own French language, had prayed 
to God for the prosperity of the state and of the king. It was 
therefore a cruel injustice not only to allow these orders to remain 
in force, but to confirm them by another, dated the 14th of May, 
1724, after sixty years of submission, untroubled by a single mur- 
mur, had proved that French Protestants are obedient subjects and 
faithful citizens. 

These royal decrees have been the cause of the excesses com- 
mitted by the troops. On the 17th of March, 1745, two companies 
of the regiment of La Rochefoucauld cavalry fired into a meeting 
in the diocese of Lavaur, where no resistance was made. One 
hundred and twenty-three infantry soldiers did the same on the 
21 St of the following November, near Saint-Hippolyte, in the 
Cevennes. On the 8th of September, 1748, in the neighborhood of 
St. Ambroix, in the diocc? of Uzes, a detachment of soldiers in- 
sulted the v/omen and girls, tore from them their rings, their silver 
ornaments and necklaces, took from them whatever money they 
had, and wounded several persons. Some dragoons committed 
similar outrages at another meeting, on the 9th of June, 1749, in 
Dauphiny, near to Montmeyran. On the 22d of November, 1750, 
several persons were wounded near to Uzes by 150 men of the 
regiment of the He de France. On this occasion the soldiers made 
three hundred prisoners who allowed themselves to be taken as 
peaceably as lambs, although the meeting, was very large. 

The decree compelling a medical attendant to give notice to 
the parish priest of the near approach of death to a Protestant, 
was issued through the Parliament of Toulouse, and dated the 22d 
of June, 1699. 

The decree forbidding Protestants to give shelter to their suffer- 
ing co-religionists was an Arret du Conseil, dated 4th of September, 
1684. Thus the sufferers were condemned to breathe the pestif- 
erous air of the hospitals, and it was made a crime to practice the 
virtues enjoined by the gospel of Jesus Christ. 



CHAPTER XI. 

In ardent and vivacious souls sorrow finds vent in 
paroxysms of violent emotions, and the very violence itself 
is a relief. It is far otherwise with strong and sensitive 
souls. To them a sorrow is ever present; they commune 
with themselves alone, and in this self-communion the sor- 
row becomes more enduring and deeper. Nature had given 
to Ambroise this type of character ; a long series of troubles 
had tended to strengthen his spirit and cultivated within 
him the habit of deep reflection. He was continually re- 
hearsing to himself the sad experiences of his life, from 
the death of his father to the death of his mother; all the 
"Declarations" of the king which had borne so cruelly upon 
him and those dear to him, and which would probably con- 
tinue to do so to the end of his days. He observed how all 
these royal declarations stirred up a popular hatred against 
those of his religion, and, in face of this fact and the con- 
stant punishments that were inflicted on them, he groaned 
inwardly. He had not forgotten his mother's dying request 
that he would try to deliver his brothers and sisters and 
convey them into a free country. He resolved to do his 
utmost to accomplish this task. He was constantly, in his 
imagination, taking flight into those happy lands where at 
last he hoped to find liberty of conscience and rest. He had 
seen hundreds of letters from refugees in which they ex- 
pressed the joy they felt in finding themselves out of France. 
The joy of these unfortunate exiles was so intense that, 
immediately they were well over the frontier, they fell upon 
their knees and rendered thanks to Heaven; in transports 



60 THE OLD CEVENOL 

of happiness they kissed the soil of the land that gave them 
hospitality, and, looking back to their native land, they shed 
tears of sympathy for those who were still imprisoned there. 
These accounts from the exiles so excited the imagination 
of the French Protestants that they left the country by 
hundreds and by thousands. The plows were abandoned 
in the fields, cattle were abandoned, manufactures ceased, 
and at length the bands of fugitives were so large that 
neither guards nor constables nor armed peasants dared to 
arrest their march. 

Ah! what evils came on France as a consequence of 
these forced desertions. They can never be fully estimated. 
Not only did our country lose her most useful subjects; 
not only were the gold, the silver and the arts of France 
carried into other lands, but soon manufactures and business 
generally dwindled all over the country. The reports of the 
provincial governors bear ample testimony to fearful losses 
that resulted from these events. 

Ambroise made great efforts to induce his brothers and 
sisters to escape from the convents in which they were con- 
fined and to follow him into exile. He had great difficulty 
in getting any news at all of them. It would be too long a 
story to tell how at last he succeeded, and all he learned 
about the manner in which they were treated. He waited 
several months in order to give them time to make their 
escape; but, seeing at length that his waiting was in vain, 
he decided to take the road to the Swiss frontier and thence 
to make his way to Holland, where he had some relatives. 
He very readily found some traveling companions. It was 
just at that time that the declaration of the king had been 
republished ordering parents to have their children baptized 
within forty-eight hours. The "converters" were very 
zealous in carrying out this law, and the Protestants found 
this kind of persecution most insupportable. They said the 



THE OLD CEVENOL 61 

church regards as her own the children she baptizes. One 
day she will come and claim them and put them in convents. 
The Protestants would never promise to bring up their 
children in the Romish rehgion, but such a promise was re- 
quired of every parent who permitted a child to be baptized 
by a Romish priest. The Protestants knew very well that 
this baptism was only a pretext for undermining the parents' 
authority over the child. They remembered the violent 
struggles that had been caused by this same measure some 
years previously, when it was said that some children had 
perished in their parents' arms in the violent endeavor of 
the priests to snatch the child away. The alarm every- 
where became so terrible that entire families went off into 
exile. Whereas, previously to that time, only individuals, 
exasperated under a sense of personal wrong, passed over 
the frontier, now it was that fathers and mothers, wounded 
in their most tender affections, gathered together all that 
they could carry of their earthly goods, and, taking their 
children with them, sought to flee the country. 

In order that his flight might be the more secret and 
sure, Ambroise joined a party of not more than a dozen 
persons, who made their way along the most obscure roads 
and marched only during the night, in order to avoid 
the guards and Catholics, for all Catholics, as well as the 
dragoons, seemed to think they had a perfect right to rob 
and murder their fellow-countrymen. "Good citizens," they 
said, "ought to be zealous in working for the good of 
the country." 

To this chapter the editor appends the following extract from 
Benoit's "History o£ the Edict of Nantes," by- way of illustrating 
the treatment accorded to Protestant children by the monks and 
nuns in the convents : 

The records of those times have preserved to us accounts of 
the methods employed by the monks and nuns in their attempts to 
convert the children of Protestants. They made use of pretended 



62 THE OLD CEVENOL 

visions, sham miracles, curses that they said were pronounced 
against obstmate children, promises, threats, rewards, punishments, 
imprisonments, fasts, branding of intamous marks on the body: 
everything possible was done to reduce them to submission. Many 
children were reduced to a most pitiable condition by such treat- 
ment; several were driven out of their mind by persistent perse- 
cution. A young girl of Balleme, who was imprisoned at Alencon 
in a house established to receive little girls, drew upon herself, by 
her constancy, the hatred of the sisters who conducted the establish- 
ment. One day they thrashed her with rods until she was covered 
with blood, and by other bad treatment, made her an epileptic. . . . 
Children were imprisoned in dark, damp and dirty dungeons, and, 
as the sisters placed them there, they would tell them that demons 
would come to them. . . . They forced the children to attend the 
mass. Rods were the favorite instruments of torture employed 
by the nuns against these children, whom they treated with all the 
refinements of cruelty that seem to be a peculiar product of the 
religious communities. At Uzes these outrages were legalized. 
The sister superior of a House for the Newly Converted com- 
plained of the rebellion of some girls who did not seem to be 
sufficiently good Catholics. They were condemned to be whipped 
by the nuns, and the punishment was administered in the presence 
of the major of the regiment at Vivonne and of the judge of the 
town. There were eight girls punished, the youngest being sixteen 
and the oldest twenty-three, yet the punishment was administered to 
them as though they were little children. They were whipped in 
the presence of a number of their companions for the sake of 
serving as examples. During the punishment the young women 
reproached the nuns for their false piety, that thus outraged the 
modesty of their sex. 

The royal declaration referred to in this chapter as obliging 
Protestant parents to have their children baptized by a Romish 
priest within forty-eight hours is dated Dec. 13, 1698 : Article VIII. 



CHAPTER XII. 

On the whole, this is a pretty good century we are Hving 
in. We no longer place little children in the red-hot arms 
of a copper statue ; we no longer imitate the torture known 
as the "Bull of Phalaris ;" we no longer see seven or eight 
monarchs, followed by their subjects, with cross on breast 
or shoulder, invade the kingdom of another ; there is prob- 
ably not a living monarch who has the remotest intention 
of repeating the little blood-letting of St. Bartholomew's 
Day; I even believe that it is now more than thirty years 
since a witch or a heretic has been burned. I frankly 
admit that I much prefer a condition of social calm and 
peace, and, if it was a necessity that, in the history of 
humanity, there should be a period of massacres, of burn- 
ings, of imprisonments and other national tragedies, I very 
much prefer that they should be in the past than in the 
present. I observe, even with a great deal of pleasure, that 
our manners have a tendency to become gentler and to lean 
towards peace and mutual helpfulness : here and there char- 
itable institutions are being founded; every useful idea is 
patronized by some prince. I confess that I am greatly 
pleased when I read an article that pleads for toleration, 
because, after all, it seems to me that monarchs are largely 
governed by public opinion : like the common people, they 
are but the heirs of the ideas they have received from 
others; all are creatures of environment. 

I sometimes hear grumblers praising "the good old 

times." I always feel sorry for them that they had the 

misfortune to be born a hundred years too late. Ah! if 

63 



64 THE OLD CEVENOL 

they had but come in the glorious days of French history, 
in the brilliant and destructive century of the Fenelons and 
the Bavilles, of the Racines and the Marillacs, of the La- 
Fontaines and of the d'Herapines, of the Corneilles and the 
Pere-la-Chaises, how their souls would have rejoiced at 
the interesting events that occurred in the provinces ! Whilst 
Louis the Great, at Paris, was attending the comedies of 
Moliere or the harmonious dramas of Quinault, of whose 
prologues he was especially fond, the common people in the 
little towns witnessed real tragedies. One day it would be 
a gang of prisoners on their way to the galleys, marching 
on amidst the jeers and insults of the crowd. Another day 
it would be the public whipping by the common hangman 
of pious old Huguenots, or young boys, or some beautiful 
young girl. Another day it would be a picnic party to go 
and see half a dozen people hanged. And these sights were 
not rare. How often has the cry been raised, "Panem et 
cir censes" (the people must have bread and public sports) ; 
but if we can only find amusements that harden and bru- 
talize manners, is not that the very acme of political wis- 
dom? 

Such were the sights that in those days were witnessed 
in the French provinces, and which Ambroise beheld during 
his flight. He and his companions suffered great hardships 
in their journey. The governors had issued orders forbid- 
ding the supply of food to travelers not having chaplets — 
beads for counting the number of prayers offered to the 
A'^irgin Mary. But our fugitives found in the woods wild 
fruits and roots, by Avhich they managed to keep up their 
strength. Everywhere they passed through desolated re- 
gions, farms absolutely deserted, and lands laid waste; or 
met Catholic laborers, victims of the misguided national zeal, 
begging their bread, or else wearing a cockade in order to 
have the privilege of taking it without the trouble of asking 



THE OLD CEVENOL 65- 

for it. As they passed through villages they found the 
houses wide open, streets full of broken household effects, 
provisions destroyed or wasted — a perfect solitude. The 
country had all the appearance of having been overrun by 
a foreign invader. The highways were filled with soldiers, 
constables, prisoners, fugitives, beggars, robbers and bodies 
of murdered people. Such was the spectacle offered to 
Europe of that France that was supposed to aspire to 
universal monarchy. 

But in those days foreign countries had a far different- 
policy. The Edict of Nantes was revoked in the month of 
October, 1685. As soon as the Elector of Brandenburg" 
received the news, the 29th of the same month he published. 
an edict by which he invited the oppressed who had beeiL 
driven from their own country to come to his. As allure- 
ments to draw them into his country, he offered them con- 
siderable privileges, pensions, homes ready for them, espe- 
cially churches where they might worship God. He dis- 
tributed them in colonies over his estates, and there they 
found ministers to preach to them and judges to judge thenL 
in their own language. Several princes of Germany; the 
princes of Lunebourg, the landgraves of Hesse-Cassel and 
Hesse-Hombourg, the margrave of Bayreuth, imitated this 
example. French villages were transported entire into the 
forests of Germany, there to keep the name that was dear 
to them and where they continued to speak in their own 
sweet mother tongue. 

England collected large sums of money for the enter- 
tainment of refugees, and sent a great number of them to 
the Indies with considerable advantage to herself as well as 
to the fugitives. Holland did twenty times more for them ; 
she lavished on them pensions and gave help to the fugitive 
soldiers, to the nobles and ministers. Entire regiments were 
formed of refugees. The very sight of these thousands o£ 



66 THE OLD CEVENOL 

refugees scattered in the North, their tears, their regrets 
and their curses even, contributed to embitter other nations 
against France and to give to the alHes, in the subsequent 
wars, that stubbornness that brought France to the very 
verge of ruin. The ambassadors of Flis Most Christian 
Majesty all wrote to the. court reporting these things, but 
the heart of Louis was consoled by the sight of the statues 
that the church raised to his honor and the glory that he 
found in banishing heresy from his realm. 

Ambroise and his companions, as they wandered through 
the woods, came across several fugitive Protestants under 
various disguises. Some of these joined their company, 
which was thus getting bigger and bigger. They journeyed 
long by obscure country roads and through a rough moun- 
tainous country, and at length arrived a few leagues south 
of the city of Lyons at a point where their guides told them 
It would be necessary to cross the river Rhone. They had 
the good fortune to find a man with a boat whom they paid 
to transport them to the other side. But it was an unfor- 
tunate day for them. Their movements had been watched 
from a neighboring village, and soon they heard the tocsin 
give the alarm and presently a score of armed peasants 
rushed down upon them. These good men were actuated 
by two powerful motives : their zeal for religion and the 
prospect of plunder. By the king's decree, one-third of the 
plunder taken from the fugitives would belong to those who 
had been able to arrest them ; these wise and gentle laws 
had the effect of constantly keeping one class of Frenchmen 
in arms against another. Another third would belong, by 
the same decree, to the informers, a respectable class of men 
that, of course, every well-governed state must employ. So 
that, if any one should be so ill advised as to help these poor 
fugitives to escape pursuit or to help them in their escape, 
the least in the world, another law, not less sagacious, 



THE OLD CEVENOL 67 

passed the 7th of May, 1686, condemned these officious 
persons to the galleys. There were so many persons whose 
kindness of heart led them to forget this law, that, in the 
year of grace 1687, this penalty of the galleys was con- 
sidered to be too lenient, and by the legislature was com- 
muted to a death penalty. By these holy decrees everybody 
was excited and aroused, so that the very peasants were 
animated by a zeal for the upholding of the law and every- 
where kept a sharp lookout for fugitives. 

Ambroise and his companions resolved to defend them- 
selves, and, pretending to arrange themselves in order of 
battle, they marched boldly to meet the peasants, who im- 
mediately took fright and fled, leaving the Protestants free 
to continue their march. But their trouble was only post- 
poned; they were watched, followed, and two days after 
were arrested in Dauphiny with their guides. Ambroise, 
who well knew the king's decrees and the penalty that he 
had incurred by simply attempting to leave the country, 
looked upon himself as now doomed to spend the rest of his 
days as a prisoner in the galleys. He resigned himself to 
his fate as a man who had no hope of being able to avoid it. 

The day following, they were conducted to the point on 
the road where they were to join the chain-gang. They 
were chained by the neck to thieves ; the chains weighed 
from forty to fifty pounds. The food given to them was of 
the coarsest kind and but little in quantity ; and if they fell 
from weakness, they were beaten with sticks. When they 
reached the rendezvous of the prisoners, they saw a crowd 
of respectable people — merchants, lawyers, gentlemen — who 
had been arrested like themselves ; several of these were 
deserving of respect on account of their age, their infirm- 
ities and their long service to society. Thus they arrived at 
Valence. 

However, word was sent from Marseilles that the galleys 



68 THE OLD CEVENOL 

and prisons were full, that they had also filled with prisoners 
all the strong buildings in the neighborhood, and that they 
would not be able to receive any more. It was first of all 
decided, in the meantime, to put these prisoners in dungeons, 
and as it was proposed to place them in the most horrible 
dungeons that could be found, several prisons were sug- 
gested which were renowned for dungeons notoriously in- 
fected and filthy. At Bourgoin, it was said, the dungeons 
are so deep, so narrow and so damp that they let the pris- 
oners down into them by ropes under their armpits, and 
that the strongest, after being in one for two hours, would 
faint away. The dungeons at Grenoble had also their dis- 
tinction; for they are so cold and damp that, at the end of 
a few weeks, the prisoners lose their hair and teeth. Then, 
again, there was the dungeon of Flocelliere, through which 
passed the sewerage from the neighboring convent, and 
whither the people of the place took the trouble to take 
carrion in order to intensify the stench. Added to all this, 
the dragoons had a precious invention of their own. They 
would throw sheeps' entrails into the dungeons by way of 
adding to the odors. This playful diversion they called 
"throwing bombs." 

If any of the readers of this history have specially strong 
nerves, and are endowed with a certain coarseness of soul, 
they may be able to note with pleasure that, in this fine 
century of Louis XIV., the minds of men had a peculiar 
energy, and that they had not been softened by reading 
Montesquieu, and the Marquis of Beccaria's work on 
"Crimes and Punishments." Such will doubtless shudder to 
think that the Government could be so ill advised as to 
suppress laws that, if they were allowed to remain upon the 
statute books, would at least perpetuate the same hardy 
spirit, the disappearance of which in these degenerate days 
is doubtless to them a matter of deep regret. 



THE OLD CEVENOL 69 

Ambrolse was at first thrown, with two o£ his com- 
panions, into a very narrow dungeon where they could not 
possibly sleep all through the night, because their chains 
were left upon them. They could hear dismal cries as of 
women groaning frightfully, but after awhile the groans 
were exchanged for singing of psalms : soon voices joined 
in the hymns from all parts of the prison. Our three 
prisoners were greatly moved to hear this concert of praise 
rising from prison dungeons, and began themselves to join 
in ; thus for an hour or so this horrible place resounded with 
the songs of praise of those who were shut up there. But 
these songs were succeeded by piercing shrieks, which came 
from a dungeon which was located above the one in which 
Ambroise and his companions were. Some one was brutally 
cowhiding two women. This horrible ordeal lasted nearly 
half an hour ; at length the door was slammed to, and Am- 
broise could hear nothing but groans and sobs. Our pris- 
oners were impatient to know who these women were whose 
situation seemed to be even worse than their own ; they 
succeeded in pulling out a few bricks and thus establishing 
a verbal communication with the women, from whom they 
learned who they were and whither they were going. The 
women, on their part, gained similar information from 
Ambroise and his companions. It was on account of re- 
ligion that they had all to endure this horrible treatment. 
They were the daughters of M. Ducros, a lawyer of 
Languedoc; they had refused to give up their religion, and 
for that reason had been sent to the general hospital of 
Valence, in accordance with a royal decree dated Sept. 3, 
1685, which ordains that women who refuse to be converted 
shall receive discipline in convents. By an interpretation 
that was even worse than the law itself, these young women 
had been placed in the hands of the director of this hospital, 
a man named Herapine. This rascal did not allow a day to 



70 THE OLD CEVENOL 

pass without hanging- these girls up by the hands, perfectly 
naked, and beating them with switches and rods. They had 
hardly anything to cover themselves with, and the only 
clothing supplied to them was underwear, foul with blood 
and pus, that had been worn by the patients in the hospital. 
They had to lie upon the ground in an infected dungeon, 
and the food given to them was more apt to poison than to 
nourish them. There were four daughters of a merchant 
of Languedoc also imprisoned here and subjected to the 
same tortures. A few days previously M. Menuret, lawyer 
of Montelimar, who had been arrested for attempting to 
leave the kingdom, had died there whilst being beaten with 
a stick. It would take days to tell the story of the frightful 
treatment the prisoners had to undergo. They encouraged 
each other. They recalled to mind consolatory passages of 
Scripture until the break of day. After awhile the dungeon 
doors were opened; the prisoners were aroused with the 
blows of sticks which, they were given to understand, were 
as much by way of punishment for singing psalms in the 
night as to make them hurry; but our prisoners, far from 
murmuring at this treatment, prayed for their tormentors, 
who, nevertheless, continued the spiteful treatment. 

The following historical note is added by the editor of the 
edition from which this translation is made: 

As some curious readers might be disposed to search amongst 
the parliamentary reports for this royal declaration of Sept. 3, 
1685, I may as well forewarn them that they will not find it. There 
are several royal decrees that were judged by various parliaments 
to be so hard that they refused to register them. From this fact 
it would appear that the decrees they did register were, in their 
opinion, just and merciful, since they not only registered them, but 
also caused them to be rigorously enacted. However that may be, 
the following has been preserved in the records of those times: 

"Louis, by the grace of God king of France and Navarre, to 
all to whom these presents may come, greeting. The governors of 
our provinces having brought to our knowledge the docility with 
which many of owv subjects, who unfortunately had inherited the 
heresies of Calvin, are returning daily into the bosom of the 



THE OLD CEVENOL 71 

Church of Rome, our mother, being constrained thereto by the 
living light that our bishops and missionaries are spreading abroad 
on every side, as well as by that filial inclination which they right- 
fully have to submit to the paternal measures that we have so long 
adopted to bring them back again to the way of salvation ; we have 
judged it to be proper to our royal piety and duty to forget nothing 
in the accomplishing of the work of the Lord. 

"Furthei-more, we have been informed that nothing has been 
so antagonistic to the holy resolution with which God has inspired 
us to purge our kingdom entirely of heresy, as the stubbornness of 
women, who not only refuse the instructions that Catholics so 
charitably offer them day by day, but also carry dissension into their 
homes by disputing vi;ith their husbands and relatives who mani- 
fest an inclination to embrace cur holy religion. With a desire of 
putting an end to such scandals and criminal disobedience to hus- 
bands and relatives, we order that all women and girls who, within 
eight days of the publication of this decree, shall not have abjured 
the heresy of Calvin, shall be shut up in convents to be instructed 
for one month, after which, if they still display a stubborn spirit, 
they shall be constrained to fast, "to watch, to pray, to receive dis- 
cipline with the others in the convents where they may be until 
their conversion is entirely accomplished. We further command 
husbands and relatives to denounce their wives, daughters and 
relatives who shall be found liable to our present decree, under 
penalty of punishment in accordance with the instructions that we 
have given to our governors, whom we expressly forbid to use any 
leniency towards transgressors. We further command to punish, 
if necessary, with fines and bodily pains, those who would even ask 
for a relaxation of the severity of our laws in favor of any one, 
whoever it may be, without exception. 

"Given at Versailles the 3rd September, 16S5, the forty-third 
j'ear of our reign. 

"(Signed) Louis (and lower) Philepeaux." 

As an illustration of the benefits resulting to other countries by 
the intolerance of France, the editor mentions the colony of Fred- 
erichsdorf, in Hesse-Hombourg, which is entirely composed of 
French refugees, who, by their commerce, their manufactures and 
their manners, are in a perfectly well-to-do condition, and show 
themselves worthy of the protection of the sovereign whom it is 
their happiness to uphold. 

As illustrating the respectable character of the prisoners who 
were subjected to the humiliating torture of marching across coun- 
try to the galleys in the chain-gang, the editor says : 

I could produce lists of three thousand persons arrested in the 
provinces since 1744 at their religious meetings. These arrests were 
made principally in upper and lower Languedoc, the Cevennes, 
Vivarais, Dauphiny, Provence, the Comte de Foix, Poitou and 



72 THE OLD CEVENOL 

Saintonge. Not to mention the common people, one may count 
more than six hundred private gentlemen, lawyers, physicians, good 
citizens and rich merchants who endured all that is most onerous of 
a hard and long captivity, which could be ended only by the payment 
of fines and contributions that were as ruinous as they were arbi- 
trary. More than a thousand others have been condemned to infamous 
penalties. In this number there are about a hundred gentlemen 
of wealth. The parliament of Grenoble alone summoned three hun- 
dred persons in 1744, subjecting them to heavy traveling expenses 
and legal costs. In the month of July, 1746, the same court depu- 
tized Sieur Cotte with his marshals and an escort of two hundred 
soldiers. "Wherever they went they subjected people to the worst 
sufferings on no other evidence than the simple denunciation of the 
priests. Later on similar visitations were made in Dauphiny, when 
more than three hundred persons were condemned to death, to the 
.galleys, to be whipped, to the pillory, to banishment, to prison for 
life or for various periods, to degradation from the nobility or to 
expenses or pecuniary fines. Fifty-three gentlemen — among them 
were the Sieurs Bournat, Berger, Bayles, Saint Dizier, Bonnet, 
Chatillon, Oste, Trescou, Chateau-Double and Saint-Julien — were 
degraded and six were sent to the galleys. 

In 174s, 1746, 1747, 1750 and 1751, more than three hundred 
persons, amongst whom were forty gentlemen and two chevaliers 
de Saint-Louis, were condemned to the galleys for life by the par- 
liament of Bordeaux and by the governors of Auch, Montpellier, 
Perpignan, Poitiers, Montauban and La Rochelle. Couserans alone 
furnishes fifty-four examples. Five were even condemned to death 
in 1746 and 1747. These sentences were pronounced by the gov- 
ernor of Montauban, and the parliaments of Bordeaux and 
Grenoble. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

The chain-gang moved slowly on its way towards 
Marseilles. The number of prisoners increased daily beyond 
all expectation. The guards were at a loss to know what to 
do with them. The only parties who were pleased with this 
state of things were those who had the contract for feeding 
the prisoners; for as the food they provided was small in 
quantity and bad in quality, they doubtless made consider- 
able profits. 

Several days went by during which the prisoners were 
hourly expecting to be put aboard the galleys in fulfillment 
of their sentences. But it was announced to them that, as 
a mark of special favor, they were to be transported to the 
New World. Far from rejoicing at this news, they shud- 
dered when they heard it : because they had heard that exiles 
transported to the New World were treated like African 
slaves. But all their sighs and groans were useless ; they 
had to do with men who listened to neither reason nor 
mercy. The embarkment was hurried forward. The con- 
tractors who had undertaken the transportation to the New 
World saw with alarm that some of the prisoners were 
dying every day, and, fearing to lose the money they had 
already expended, also the bonus that was paid on the 
embarkation of each prisoner, they insisted so vehemently, 
and used bribes so judiciously, that soon everything was 
ready for the departure. The exiles burst into tears when 
they saw the ships ; they prostrated themselves on the shore ; 
they fervently kissed the soil that was rejecting them, the 

land where each one was leaving some one dear to him. 

73 



74 THE OLD CEVENOL 

They now feared, as much as they had previously desired, to 
leave the country. The officers amused themselves at watch- 
ing- the desperate grief of the prisoners, and had the bad 
taste even to mock their gesticulations. At length they 
compelled the prisoners to embark; the coast of France 
gradually sank in the horizon and finally disappeared from 
view. 

After sailing for a few days, the captain began to put 
into execution a plan that hitherto he had been very careful 
to conceal. It was to sink the ship. It was a rotten old 
hulk that had been selected for this voyage, and was already 
leaking in many places. The sailors placed in a skiff every- 
thing that was of any value from the ship, and then the 
captain boarded the skiff with his crew. Two sailors only 
were left aboard the ship to execute the final orders, which 
they did with the utmost secrecy. They pulled out a plug" 
that bunged a hole in the bottom of the ship, and then, 
throwing themselves into the sea, swam out to the skiff. 
Some of the prisoners, and among their number was 
Ambroise, seeing their danger, broke their chains and ran 
to the pumps. For a time they worked frantically, but with- 
out avail. The water gradually gained in the hold of the 
ship, and at length, with a frightful plunge, she sank in the 
depth of the waters. 

As an instance of how ignoble noblemen can be, E. Benoit, in 
his "History of the Edict of Nantes," tells the following: 

The Count of Tesse had arrested some unfortunates, amongst 
whom was a person of quality who threw himself at the count's 
feet and begged for mercy. His words were broken with sobs and 
tears. The count, by way of mockery of the grief of the miserable 
man, kneeled down, joined his hands as in supplication, rolled his 
eyes, distorted his mouth and howled in mimic lamentations. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Upon this ship was a man from La Rochelle who, after 
a variety of adventures, had found himself in Languedoc, 
where he had entered into the service of a Protestant gentle- 
man, for which crime he had been condemned to the galleys. 
This man was an excellent seaman, and, seeing that the 
vessel was about to sink, he seized an ax and cut down the 
mizzen-mast. He also managed to rip up some of the 
boards of the deck. In this task Ambroise helped him. 
They then threw themselves into the sea before the ship 
made her final plunge. By micans of these timbers three of 
the unfortunates managed to keep themselves afloat. The 
man from Rochelle taught them how best to husband their 
strength, and, as the wind blew from the east, they hoped 
before long to sight the coast of Spain. For twelve hours 
they were in the water without being able to perceive that 
they were making much headway; in the meantime, their 
strength was becoming exhausted, and they were about to 
perish from fatigue and hunger, when, to their great joy, 
a ship hove in sight. By shouting all together they managed 
to attract the attention of the crew of the passing ship. A 
boat was put off to rescue them. Who can describe their 
delight when they heard their rescuers speak in a language 
unknown to them? Each one thanked God that they had 
not fallen into the hands of their own countrymen. "At 
least," said Ambroise, "we shall not have to fear any royal 
proclamations." For at that moment he recalled with bitter- 
ness the long series of royal proclamations since 1685, from 

the time he lost his father until that moment when he found 

75 



76 THE OLD CEVENOL 

himself a castaway in the waters of the Mediterranean Sea, 
half dead and about to be in the power of men whose nation- 
ality was unknown to him and whose language he did not 
understand. 

But the language of kindness is universally understood. 
The strangers showed for the three Frenchmen the greatest 
possible kindness. Friendship seemed to beam from their 
faces, and they betrayed so much sympathy that the cast- 
aways soon realized they were in the midst of friends and 
that their misfortunes would soon come to an end. Once 
aboard the ship, they were put to bed and gently fed with 
light but nourishing food. Seeing both soldiers and sailors 
around them, the poor exiles could scarcely believe that 
these men, instead of torturing them, were really caring for 
them and helping them. 

Their rescuers were Englishmen, cruising, in a ship of 
war, around Gibraltar, which at that date had not yet fallen 
into their hands. The chaplain of the ship understood a 
little French, and managed to hold some conversation with 
the rescued men, who told him of their misfortunes. They 
had the sympathy, not only of the chaplain, but of the entire 
crew. The Englishmen very freely expressed their horror 
and indignation at the treatment these men had received 
from their Government and fellow-countrymen. Having 
fulfilled her commission, the vessel sailed for London, 
where each of the Frenchmen soon found a position and 
congenial employment. It is unnecessary here to give in 
details Ambroise's experiences in England. He soon learned 
the language, and the business habits he had already 
formed helped him to advance, until after a few years he 
was able to engage in business on his own account and 
acquired a considerable fortune. 

It might seem incredible that the simple act of being a servant 
in a Protestant family should be a crime, but such it was decreed 



THE OLD CEVENOL 77 

"by a royal decree dated Jan. ii, 1686. This declaration recites that 
by the former decree of July 9, 1685, his Catholic subjects were for- 
bidden to engage in their service persons of the so-called reformed 
religion, as tending to hinder the conversion of Protestants. He 
now declares it dangerous to allow to the newly converted the 
liberty of employing in their service persons of the said religion, 
and consequently no one of the so-called reformed religion shall 
under any pretext whatever hold the position of servant in the 
family of one of the same religion; under penalty of one thousand 
livres for the employer, the galleys for the men-servants, and the 
whip for the women-servants. 



CHAPTER XV. 

What, after all, is that attachment for our native land 
to which we give the imposing name of love of country? 
If we recall fondly the memory of places where we played 
in early years, is it not because we are not thoroughly satis- 
fied with the present, and is it not for the same reason that 
we are constantly indulging hopes and making plans for 
the future? Should we take such pleasure in recalling the 
pastimes, for the matter of that, often dull enough, of our 
native village or little town, the houses, the fields, the woods 
in which we wandered in childhood's days, if we were al- 
together satisfied with our present condition? 

Dissatisfaction with the present, it is said, is a sentiment 
peculiarly prevalent in the atmosphere of London. At any 
rate, Ambroise fell a victim to it; he became homesick and 
suffered from spells of depression. At such times his 
thoughts turned fondly to the scenes of his childhood, the 
little town where he was born, the hills around it, the huge 
boulders of rock in the torrent that rushed close by the city 
walls, the meadows through which he wandered as a boy. 
The desire once more to visit his native land became irre- 
sistible, in spite of the dissuasions of his friends among the 
multitude of refugees in London. He argued thus with his 
friends : he would tell them that since he left France the 
lot of his brothers had been greatly improved, that now the 
torch of reason was flaming, that now a philosophical spirit 
had supplanted the old persecuting spirit and a ray of 
wisdom was enlightening the country, the French nation was 

learning wisdom, that books and newspapers were preach- 

78 



THE OLD CEVENOL 79 

ing tolerance and humanity, and that by all signs French 
society was becoming more tolerant and humane. 

Possessed with these ideas, Ambroise embarked at 
Dover, full of impatience to see his beloved native land 
once more. It is easy to understand that he was not 
recognized by anybody in his little native town. His dress 
alone was a sufficient disguise. In those days it was the 
fashion in France to wear long-tail coats and high hats, 
and the English, in order to spite us, had taken to short-tail 
coats and low hats ; which we adopted the next year, in 
consequence of which they discontinued the fashion for 
themselves. Ambroise's outfit bespoke the man of ample 
means without pretence of grandeur. He conveyed the 
impression of a man who was traveling for pleasure, without 
troubling himself about the opinions of others. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Ambroise, born into the Protestant religion, brought up 
by a mother who had sacrificed everything for conscience' 
sake, confirmed in his opinions by the very means that had 
been taken to induce him to abandon them, v^as what might 
be called a religious man. Hardly had he given himself time 
to rest after his long journey, than he expressed a desire to 
attend a public religious service of his brethren in the faith. 
He was led out into the country, into a desert place of 
heather and reeds; a few green oaks scattered here and 
there afforded a little shade, but as it was summer-time and 
the weather extremely hot, as it often is in the south o: 
France, the shade afforded by the few trees was far from 
sufficient to shelter the entire assembly. About four thou- 
sand people had assembled in this burning desert; they 
joined in public prayers, they sang the praises of the God of 
cities and deserts, and having listened to a discourse which 
had for its object an endeavor to encourage to a virtuous 
life, each one returned home, wet with perspiration, but 
happy in the consciousness of having rendered to God the 
homage that they believed to be his due. 

A number of persons withdrew to a house some distance 

from the place of assembly to take a meal. Ambroise was 

invited to join them. There were two strangers in the 

company whom curiosity alone had drawn to the meeting. 

One of these was a careful observer of men and manners, 

and seemed to be more interested in observing the customs 

of men than the monuments of antiquity. He said that it 

was especially in large gatherings of people that the manners 
80 



THE OLD CEVENOL 81 

and prevailing ideas of people could be learned. He held 
that laws should be framed according to the opinions of 
the majority of the people, and that the object of legislation 
should be to reform prevailing customs when they were 
vicious, to tolerate them when they were harmless, or to 
encourage them when they contributed to the moral good 
and prosperity of the community. It was his opinion that 
observers should note with the greatest care the general 
spirit of a people, which exhibits greater varieties than 
either climate or habits. 

His younger companion, who had taken a more super- 
ficial view of men and things, had not made a careful 
comparison between the opinions peculiar to certain people 
and the primitive ideas to be found in all nations. His 
remarks betrayed the frivolity of his mind. He made fun 
of the monotonous music he had heard, and was especially 
critical of the absurd rhymes and meters of the Protestant 
psalmody. 

One of the men in the company said: "We will admit, 
sir, that the verses are old-fashioned and the music is drawl- 
ing, but that is the result of the tyranny of custom. When 
our forefathers adopted the translation of Marot, they 
found it in vogue at the court. Marot was one of the first 
poets of his day, and at that time there was no better to 
choose from. H we continue to make use of his psalms, 
it is because of the great difficulty of changing an established 
custom, and because very few persons have the courage to 
attempt the difficult task. As for the music, it is Goudi- 
mel's, who fell in the massacre of St. Bartholomew. It is 
fine and noble music. The celebrated Jean Jacques, speaking 
of it, says, 'The strong and manly melodies of Goudimel,' 
but I agree with you that we sing it badly. The music is 
difficult and our circumstances are such that we have not 

had the opportunity to learn music, but hope some day 

6 



■82 THE OLD CEVENOL 

that we may be able to do better, as we certainly shall if we 
-can but have peace. You surely can not expect us to 
decorate the temple whilst it is in ruins." 

''But yet, sir," replied the young man, "why any music 
;at all, why any preaching, why any psalms? Why are you 
not satisfied to worship God at home according to your own 
ideas, without exposing yourself to this frightful heat which 
has been scorching my brain? As for me, I think that all 
worship is acceptable to God. I don't believe he has ever 
commanded you to annoy him with bad music." 

"You think thus," replied the same man, "and I think 
otherwise. Act according to your opinion, but leave me to 
act according to mine. I may be mistaken, it is true, but 
so may you be mistaken also. If you believe that God has 
never told you to do anything, well, that is your business; 
but as for me, I believe that God requires me to worship 
him in the manner in which I do. I should be violating my 
own conscience if I did otherwise. I believe, as you do, 
that God does not command me to sing his praises in bad 
poetry; but I beheve that in his sight verses good or bad 
are equally acceptable if they are the sincere tribute of our 
hearts, since I do not imagine that he has organs of sense 
like ours. I also believe that, since he is the God of all 
nations and of all languages, to him it is altogether a matter 
of indifiference what language I use in worshiping him, 
whether Latin or French ; but I believe it to be most reason- 
able and profitable for us to worship God in a language that 
we can understand. Thus, sir, until I am convinced that it 
Is no part of my duty to worship God in public, it is 
absolutely necessary for me to worship God in a manner 
that I believe is acceptable to him." 

The elder traveler then broke In upon the conversation 
and said to his companion : "My friend, I have traveled over 
many countries; I have seen various parts of Asia and 



THE OLD CEVENOL 83 

Africa; I have penetrated far into the interior of tropical 
Africa, and wherever I have found a community with any 
sort of regular organization to guarantee public order, I 
have also found some kind of religious worship. Wherever 
you find a police you find a religion, and you can trace the 
origin of these two institutions to the same epoch. And this 
has led me to suspect that the light of religion has been 
given to man to teach him justice or righteousness, and 
human society itself is designed to teach us the benefits of 
the reign of law, and as I can not possibly doubt that tfi"e 
social instincts of men are natural and innate, I suspect tliat 
it may also be an instinct that has led mankind in all 
countries and in all ages to invoke and worship a superior 
power." 

"That is to say, sir, that you still believe in innate ideas, 
notwithstanding that Locke has clearly proved that — " 

"I did not say that we have innate ideas, but I am quite 
prepared to believe that we have innate sentiments." 

"And what is the difference between innate ideas and 
innate sentiments?" <» 

"A very perceptible difference. Ideas are the results of 
sensations that the organs of sense transmit to the brain; 
thus it is clear that the brain can have no idea until some- 
thing shall have been transmitted along the organs of sense. 
But our sentiments are our natural dispositions that we 
follow mechanically. Thus maternal love is an innate sen- 
timent. A mother's love for her children is the result of 
neither reflection nor experience. And since I call instinct 
their blind following of conclusions of which they ignore 
the premises, and since all do the same without knowing 
the reason why, I believe that we ought to give the same 
name to such of our sentiments as all men follow from 
their birth, without being specially instructed to do so. It 
seems evident to me, for instance, that man is disposed, 



84 THE OLD CEVENOL 

like the ant, the beaver or the bee, to Hve in societies, and, 
just as the bee is not wliat she ought to be if she Hves alone 
and apart from other bees, so man, living alone, would be 
weak, ignorant, imperfect and not in a condition to arrive 
at perfection. What has Nature done for us? A simple 
little thing. She has placed upon us a law which impels us 
to seek the society of our fellow-creatures, and from this 
simple fact behold laws, good and bad, courts, states and 
empires." 

"What are you trying to prove?" 

"This: when I see men everywhere agree in rendering 
worship, good or bad, to a superior power, I suspect that 
they are impelled so to do by a law of which they are 
unconscious, and I can not but feel that, if the Creator has 
made use of this means, it is better and more direct than if 
he had left us to arrive at this conclusion by the slower 
process of experience and the vagaries of human reasonings. 
However, I may possibly be mistaken — as I have often been. 
I have unfortunately several times treated with contempt 
and disregard opinions which I have ultimately adopted, so 
that now, when I oppose the opinions of others, I desire 
to do so with that respect which is due to men who may 
be better able to judge the matter than I." 

"You believe, then, that the Creator has inspired us to 
recite certain forms of prayer, to bend the knees, to turn 
towards the east, to wear vestments of fine white linen 
and to sing vespers and matins ?" 

"No, I spoke simply of the sentiment which the Creator 
may have implanted in the heart of man, and not of the 
accessories that man has added. God simply says to all, 
'Worship me in spirit and in truth.' Men's imagination and 
love of display have done the rest. If there is a God, and 
if he can be known by us, we can not but admire him. To 
admire him is to adore, to worship him. But whether we 



THE OLD CEVENOL 85 

worship him in a white surpHce or in a black robe, whether 
we sing his praises in unison or in four parts, is a matter for 
each one to settle according to his own conscience, and if 
I were a king I would not wish to persecute anybody for 
singing in any particular fashion." 

"It seems, then, according to your reasoning, that you 
think that in reality the exterior form of worship is a 
matter of but little consequence. In that case, where is 
the harm of the king compelling others to adopt the form 
of worship that he prefers ?" 

"Where is the harm? There is the greatest possible 
harm. In the first place, he can not do it. The attempt to 
do it has already cost the country five civil wars and three 
million lives. That is a rather costly experiment. You can 
see by the zeal of these gentlemen how tenaciously they hold 
to their opinions. Even supposing their religion to be 
false, they believe it to be true ; which for them is exactly 
the same thing. I doubt not that they will continue to feel 
that they are under obligation to follow the religion they 
believe in until they can find a better. I wish with all my 
heart that the ideas of men might become more and more 
noble and perfect; for that end I would be ready to shed 
the last drop of my blood; but I would not shed one drop 
of their blood to force them to change their opinions." 

At hearing these noble sentiments from the stranger, a 
murmur of applause went around the company. These 
hearts, cowed and humiliated by long and bitter sufferings, 
seemed to brighten up under words of sympathy, like 
flowers which, beaten down by a storm, begin to raise their 
heads when the sun shines out again. 

"Ah! gentlemen," said one of the company, "you say 
well, we may be deceived ; it seems to us that the simple 
worship that we render to God is that which seems most 
natural. We reject other forms only because they seem to 



86 THE OLD CEVENOL 

us to be unnatural and unreasonable and that neither God 
nor nature sanctions them. At any rate, our sincerity is 
beyond suspicion ; the very perils to which we expose our- 
selves are a proof of our good faith. But if it is a matter of 
no consequence what kind of worship we render unto God, 
as this gentleman seems to think, it surely is not worth while 
that others should fly at our throats because we have a 
different opinion." 

Sympathy for the sufferings of others is a sentiment to 
be found deep down in almost every heart; personal in- 
terest and prejudice may often stifle it, but there come 
moments when it will develop, when it will burst forth with 
greater force for having been repressed. This was the case 
with the younger traveler. He had at first regarded the 
Protestants with that contempt that we too often feel to- 
wards the downtrodden, before we take the trouble to en- 
quire whether they are right or wrong. The remarks of his 
companion had been for him like a shaft of light. "You 
are right," said he. 'Tf worship is an eternal law dictated 
by the Supreme Being, these people, without knowing it, 
are following a law hidden deeply in their nature ; if they 
have added some indifferent practices, it can not be a crime ; 
at least, they are no more guilty than other people who do 
similar things. Their worship is the most simple in exist- 
ence, since they have added less than others to the universal 
instinct." These new-born convictions were clearly depicted 
upon the frank and open countenance of the young man. 

"Do not suppose, gentlemen," said he to the company, 
"that I intended any insult in ridiculing the opinions that 
have drawn down upon you so much suffering. The un- 
fortunate, whoever they may be, always have a claim upon 
my respect, and I know only too well that, in order to be 
persecuted, it is often only necessary to be right. I believe 
I mifht even go so far as to say that of two parties, one of 



THE OLD CEVENOL 87 

which persecutes the other, it is the persecutor who is in the^ 
wrong. But will you allow me, as a friend of the unfor- 
tunate, to make some observations? If you have felt the 
force of my friend's remarks, you will doubtless have felt 
that the essential thing- in worship is the homage paid to 
God, and the non-essential or indifferent part is the external 
form of that worship. Why, then, do you not limit your- 
selves to heart worship, or, at most, to domestic worship, 
which is not now forbidden ? You would thus render to- 
God the homage you owe to him, and you would not expose 
yourselves to the persecutions of men." 

"Ah, sir," then remarked the master of the house, "don't 
you suppose that we would do that if we held your opinions? 
But we have not your opinions. We believe that God wishes 
us to worship him in the manner we do, and we could not 
observe any other kind of worship. We are under obli- 
gation, as your friend has admitted, to obey our own con- 
science, because we believe we are in the right." 

"My dear friend," then said the elder of the travelers,. 
"do not push my principles further than I am prepared to^ 
follow them ; and especially do not draw conclusions from 
them that are not warranted by the premises. Observe, it 
is not domestic worship that we see established all over the 
earth, but public worship. All people have had temples or' 
religious rendezvous in which worship has taken a certain 
form. The evil with these people is not that their worship 
has taken a certain form, but that they have hated those 
who, without knowing or consulting them, have adopted 
another. I should regard it a very great misfortune for 
humanity if all the temples were closed, and the opinion 
prevailed that it was sufficient to worship God in private." 

"You surprise me. Why, should we not then at length 
see upon this earth re-established that peace that theologians 
have disturbed ? There would be no more religious quarrels,, 



88 THE OLD CEVENOL 

no more holy wars in which men robed in white fight against 
men robed in black, no more consecrated banners under 
which to rally the persecutors, no more pretexts to be per- 
secuted, and, as a consequence, no more of those evils that 
have devastated Europe for centuries." 

"It is true we should not have these evils, but we should 
have others, for such is the natural weakness of humanity 
that there are drawbacks to all its institutions and to all its 
various modes of life. If there were no more public speak- 
ing to men on religious themes, if they were never reminded 
of the punishments to come to evil-doers and of the rewards 
of well-doing, it is evident that soon there would be no 
religion, and you see that brings us to the great question 
whether, after all, religion is not the great misfortune of 
mankind, which I am very far from admitting. This is a 
discussion that befits an assembly of philosophers, but what 
we have to do with now refers to these good, simple people 
whom we have come into the desert to observe. The ques- 
tion is, ought the privilege of public worship to be taken 
away from these Protestants, or, in other words, ought 
their religion to be taken away, for that is the same thing? 
Is it wise to establish a people without a religion in the 
midst of a kingdom where a religion already exists? Is it 
prudent, or even possible, to deprive this people of a religion 
which they have once known or followed ? — whether such an 
end could be brought about by any arguments or by any 
laws — and what would be the consequences to the state of 
this sudden and ill-contrived privation?" 

"Sir," said to him one of the company, "the experiment 
has already been tried here in this very country where you 
are at the present moment. The people who lived here 
found themselves deprived of their opportunities for wor- 
ship when their ministers had been driven away. The 
people were so much opposed to the dominant religion that 



THE OLD CEVENOL 89 

Linnumberecl acts of violence had not availed to induce them 
to embrace it. They found themselves without instruction, 
without religious assemblies, and without public prayers. 
Well, what happened? Cherishing constantly fond mem- 
ories of their temples, that were become more dear to them 
by privation, they met in secret ; any one who could or would 
performed the office of minister, and women and even chil- 
dren took part in the services. These ignorant ministrants 
supplied the deficiency of their knowledge by the most ab- 
surd vagaries ; soon there appeared prophets and prophet- 
esses ; the people, hungering for spiritual food of some kind, 
no matter what, began to have visions and yielded them- 
selves up to the most ridiculous fanaticism, which was 
religious in name only. When, at length, the old persecu- 
tions revived, which had previously scourged this part of 
the country, the very children resisted and suffered without 
complaint the persecutor's rage, even as had their fathers 
before them ; some fanatics took to arms, and this, together 
with the violence of the priests, was one of the causes of the 
war of the Camisards. Fanaticism did not cease until reg- 
ular worship was re-established according to the rites of 
the other Protestants of Europe." 

"That," said the traveler, "is just what I should have 
predicted. When you had ministers, they exhorted you to 
patience and encouraged you to suffer martyrdom ; they 
represented to you persecutors as the instruments of Provi- 
dence, but since then you have recognized them as your 
enemies and have attempted to resist them by force." 

"Sir, we detest their conduct even more than the vio- 
lence that gave occasion to it, and now we regard flight from 
our country as the only proper reply to those who have 
caused us to hate it." 

"However, gentlemen," persisted the young man, "you 
can not deny that the massing of multitudes such as yours. 



90 THE OLD CEVENOL 

has something of a criminal character. If the CathoHcs of 
England were to assemble contrary to law, the English 
Government would repress them, and it would do well." 

"The comparison is not just," replied Ambroise. "I am 
from England, sir. The Catholics, truly, are not in a 
brilliant condition there, but they are tolerated; they have 
their priests, their houses of prayer, their meetings. They 
are not such fools as to go out into the deserts to seek what 
without hindrance, they have in the towns; but if they 
assembled in crowds in the fields, it is clear that it would not 
be in order to gain a liberty that they already have in the 
towns. Their meetings would be suspicious and would de- 
serve to be put down. I have, however, seen Methodists 
assemble in the fields to worship after their own fashion, 
and I can assure you that the Government did not trouble 
itself about them, and it did well. If the Government had 
persecuted them, it would have doubled their number. Our 
assemblies are not the massing together of troops ; and what 
is a proof that they are not seditious is the fact that we 
admit our wives and children and strangers into our 
meetings. The Government's suspicions are groundless, 
since we desire and pray for its prosperity. Let the Govern- 
ment tolerate us; let it authorize us; let the Christians of 
the eighteenth century grant to us what the Christians of 
the second century asked of the Roman emperors ; and you 
will find that our assemblies will be the rendezvous of simple 
and pious people who will pray in French for their country 
and their king." 

It was getting late ; the travelers had still some distance 
to go before nightfall, and took their leave. The master of 
the house desired to show them some things about the 
neighborhood. They saw a newly built farmhouse, and near 
by some broken walls blackened by fire. He told them that 
this house had been demolished three or four times since 



THE OLD CEVENOL 91 

the time of M. de Rohan, and that it had finally been burned 
by the royal troops during the Camisard war. He pointed 
out, in the distance, two or three villages that had been 
burned also. "Some of these lands," said he, "are still lying 
waste since the revocation of the Edict of Nantes. From 
fear of the penal laws, we hardly dare to .buy land, lest we 
should be compelled to abandon them. However, we have 
risked replanting our mulberry-trees, which have brought us 
in considerable gains. We are already furnishing a number 
of factories with raw silk. It is we who pay three-fourths 
of the taxes of these cantons ; the taxes on our particular 
industry have been doubled in the last ten years. Ah ! how 
much good would result from a thoroughly reliable policy 
of toleration, a toleration that would not be liable to be 
withdrawn by the caprices of a Government that alternately 
adopts and rejects such measures." 

"Believe me," said the stranger, deeply moved, "that I 
shall lose no opportunity of speaking about you and making 
known your real character and purposes. All these evils 
hardly affect us when we hear about them at a distance, 
but what I have seen to-day I shall never forget." 

The Protestants were consoled; the travelers were 
touched with the sufferings of which they had seen the 
evidences ; they separated with many expressions of mutual 
respect and affection. Pity had arisen in the hearts of the 
visitors at the sight of suffering and the pathetic gratitude 
of the unfortunate people for those who had shown some 
interest in their lot. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Ambroise at length settled down and began to feel 
himself safe from the shafts of misfortune. He had 
married and was happy in the enjoyment of the most perfect 
friendship he had ever known. One who has passed 
through many and severe troubles is qualified to appreciate 
happiness when it at length smiles upon him. But his 
sorrows were not yet ended: his wife was taken from him 
soon after he became a father. His strong and sensitive 
soul was plunged into the depths of despair. Nothing 
seemed to dissipate the cloud of gloom that oppressed his 
spirit. He was a prey to melancholy, and he would have 
become a misanthrope, disgusted with life, with men and 
society, had it not been for that paternal tenderness that 
led him constantly to the cradle where lay the memorial o£ 
his sweetest friendship and his deepest sorrow. 

For a long time Ambroise denied himself to all visitors ; 
he sought in religion the solace of his woe. Piety lent an 
element of tenderness to the strength of his character, and 
when, after long struggles, the consolations of religion pre- 
vailed, his heart was softened and tears came to his relief. 
Pie went to the cradle where lay his infant son, and found 
a peculiar happiness in tracing in the face of the child the 
features of the beloved mother, and he decided that he 
would conquer his sorrow in order to devote himself to the 
bringing up of the innocent child whose natural protector 
he was. 

One day, as with tearful eyes he sat nursing the child, 

a notary entered his doorway, and, after the usual civilities, 
92 



THE OLD CEVENOL 93 

handed him a legal document that Ambroise had great dif- 
ficulty in reading. It was a summons calling upon him to 
renounce all rights and claims to the property and rights of 
the late Miss Sophie Robinel, seeing that she had never 
been his legitimate wife, etc. The horrible paper fell from 
his hands. The summons had been issued in the name of 
Sieur and Dame Robinel, father and mother of the deceased, 
who were under legal obligation to pay a dowry which they 
had not paid and which was now overdue. Although Am- 
broise was generous and had not dreamed of requiring the 
payment of his wife's dowry, he now felt that it was his 
son's property more than his own, and he did not feel that 
he should renounce that which was naturally his son's. The 
horrible character of the proceeding angered him. "For 
virtue's sake," said he, "one can make sacrifices ; but shame- 
ful and vicious proceedings like this should be dealt with 
without flinching. God forbid that I should yield on a 
point like this, through weakness. I despise the riches, but 
I feel I ought not to dispose of them without consulting the 
just rights of my son." 

It is necessary to explain to the reader that Ambroise 
had not been married in the church catholique, apostolique 
et romaine, which was also the case with four or five hun- 
dred thousand others who have become the parents of about 
two millions of children, all of whom, by the glorious laws 
of our land, are declared to be illegitimate, from a legal 
standpoint. With such laws as ours there can be no legal 
marriage except according to the canons of the Council of 
Trent. No marriage is valid except those at which the sac- 
rament has been administered by a Romish priest, and such 
sacrament can be administered only to Roman Catholics. 
It follows, as a matter of consequence, that Roman Cath- 
olics are the only people who can legally marry. Ambroise, 
who did not view things quite in the same light, maintained 



94 THE OLD CEVENOL 

that the fact of the consent of the parents and of the parties 
constitute marriage, that the marriage contract reveals the 
conditions, that Hving together as man and wife is the public 
acknowledgment of the marriage, and the children that 
are born of the union are so many pledges of the validity of 
the marriage, that they are legitimate because there has 
been a real contract and all the conditions have been com- 
plied with, and the part that the priest takes in the marriage 
is simply to bless it in the presence of God and in the 
presence of witnesses. That is but common sense, as Am- 
broise maintained. But the lawyer laughed disdainfully at 
all these fine reasons deduced from natural right and from 
the spirit of the laws of all nations. 

"It is not a question of common sense," said the lawyer. 
"You must remember that we are in France, and you will 
be judged according to French law. Now, French law 
requires you to be married by the Church of Rome, under 
penalty of nullification, and this is what you have not done." 

"But how could I have done it," asked Ambroise, "if 
the priest can not administer the sacrament to heretics? 
The priest would not have married me." 

"You had simply to embrace our religion." 

"But that would have been impossible, since I do not 
believe in it. You certainly do not mean to say that I should 
have committed an act of hypocrisy and profanation?" 

"No, for I should have despised you." 

"What should I have done, then?" 

"You should not have married." 

"Ah, well, I suppose that that might have been possible ; 
but then, do you maintain that twelve hundred thousand 
young men and twelve hundred thousand maidens should 
remain single? Shame on it, sir, you have there a perver- 
sion of morality, and it seems to me that your laws are 
framed to encourage immorality." 



THE OLD CEVENOL 95 

"That is no business of mine. There are cleverer men 
than I who seem to think that it is all right. In any case, 
it is no business of mine to defend our laws nor to reform 
them ; it is simply my business to inform you that your 
marriage is not legal and that it will be nullified; your son 
will be declared illegitimate ; he will have no title to inherit 
either his mother's property or yours." 

"Well, sir, I will take the risk. At the worst it is only 
money I shall lose, for my honor is beyond the reach of the 
law ; and as regards the honor and fortune of my son, I am 
well able to take care of them." 

So Ambroise decided to defend the memory of his 
virtuous wife and the status of his son. He fortified his 
case with excellent opinions of distinguished lawyers, such 
as M. EHe de Beaumont; MM. Mariette and L'Oiseau; 
MM. Target and Gerbier; MM. Pascalis and Pazery, of 
Aix; of MM. Lacroix and Jamme, of Toulouse. He ob- 
tained an opinion of M. Servan, of Grenoble, and of the 
principal legal authorities in the kingdom. All gave it as 
their opinion that, as the Protestants were, by law, obliged 
to remain in the kingdom where they were permitted to 
enjoy the conditions of civil life, and not being able, as 
Protestants, to demand or obtain nuptial benediction of the 
priest, their only course, in order to marry, was to follow 
the usages of primitive society ; that is to sa}^, that the con- 
sent of the parents and of the parties and the living together 
as man and wife constituted for them a marriage, since the 
law could not mean that they should not marry. 

Not satisfied with these opinions, Ambroise obtained 
opinions from various German universities, and especially 
from those schools where the study of natural law was a 
specialty, since natural law is the basis of all laws, though 
it must be admitted that many laws are considerably off the 
base. These German schools gave opinions even more 



96 THE OLD CEVENOL 

favorable, since, as Ambroise pointed out, they had no 
prejudices to influence their judgment. He wrote to Hun- 
gary, in which country there are eighteen hundred thousand 
Protestants, to ask if all these were illegitimate. The reply 
he received said, "No," and added sarcastically that in 
Hungary people were not clever enough to understand such 
subtle distinctions. Finally he wrote to Rome, whence 
come opinions that are supposed to regulate the universe; 
he asked what they thought there, or rather what they did 
about marriage, for there is no necessary connection between 
opinions and conduct. An old doctor of the Propaganda 
replied that while, as a matter of fact, they taught that the 
marriage consisted in the sacrament, yet at bottom he 
thought that a marriage was valid, even though deprived of 
sacramental grace, when it is contracted by those to whom 
the sacrament is refused; they recognize this in the case of 
Jews, who are very useful in bringing money and business 
into the country that has been stripped bare of its population 
and industries ; that formerly they had instructed the Jesuits 
to compel the Protestants of France to marry before a 
priest, but that they had been led to change their policy in 
this respect when they saw that the only result was to 
populate and strengthen the heretical countries. 

Furnished with this volume of authorities, and sustained 
by what he called the righteousness of his cause, Ambroise 
employed an eminent lawyer to conduct his defense. This 
m.an based a very eloquent argument on reason and senti- 
ment. He presented with reason and force the arguments 
of the most celebrated legal authorities. His speech was 
frequently interrupted by applause from the large company 
that had assembled to hear the proceedings. Justice and 
Humanity, speaking to all hearts, evoked many stifled sobs, 
and some were melted to tears as they listened to the argu- 
ments. But the attorney on the other side pompously cited 



THE OLD CEVENOL 97 

the text of the law ; he constantly brought back his eloquent 
adversary to the letter of the law. He gravely maintained 
that to-day there were no Protestants in France, because 
that in 17 15 the law declared there were none. He went 
even so far as to state that it would be ruinous to the state if 
it changed the status of the two million illegitimate children 
in the country. He adroitly insinuated that this happy con- 
fusion gave rise to a great number of lawsuits which kept 
the courts busy. He convinced nobody, but Ambroise lost 
his cause. It was said that whilst the decision of the court 
was being pronounced the judges were visibly embarrassed, 
and sought to conceal the blush of shame with their hand- 
kerchiefs, and it was the popular belief that the judges 
looked more guilty than the defendant. The iniquitous 
law triumphed, the memory of Ambroise's wife was tar- 
nished, and her son declared illegitimate and disqualified 
to succeed to his mother's inheritance. One can well un- 
derstand Ambroise's indignation. "Let us return," said 
he, "let us return to that hospitable land where the rights 
of humanity are respected and guarded. And thou, un- 
happy child, who dost experience misfortune before know- 
ing it, come seek a gentler land where thou wilt be per- 
mitted to enjoy the inheritance that my love has provided 
for thee." 

That same evening Ambroise dined with two or three 
of his judges. They candidly admitted that the laws which 
condemned him did not agree with the eternal laws of 
nature, and that they were ashamed to be the administrators 
of such laws. "But, what can we do?" they said. "We 
are only the executors and not the interpreters of the law." 

"What I would recommend you to do," replied Am- 
broise, "is to inform the king, who has been deceived, of 
the abominable nature of the laws that, in his name, you 

have to administer. Let him hear from all parts of his 

7 



98 THE OLD CEVENOL 

king-dom the protesting voices of the magistrates who rep- 
resent him, against the laws that oppress his subjects and 
render them unhappy. The opinions of the magistrature 
vv'ould be beyond suspicion, and he, doubtless, would re- 
store to the unfortunates the rights of humanity, and it 
would be to his glory to have contributed to the happiness 
and welfare of his people." The historian may here pause 
to mention that not until fifty years later were the marriage 
laws adjusted so as to do justice to the Protestant portion 
of the population. 

'T see, gentlemen," proceeded Ambroise, "that I have 
been very much deceived about my country, in judging it 
by the literature that came to me across the Channel. 
When I read in London so many speeches and articles 
about philosophy and humanity, I expected to find these 
grand theories in practice, but I still find the Protestants 
the victims of pitiless laws." 

"What have you to grumble about?" interrupted, in 
an excited manner, an old man who sat on the opposite 
side of the table. "We are constantly hearing about the 
severity of the penal laws ; but you know very well that 
they are not carried out. The judges are too indulgent 
and allow them to remain as dead letters. It is true that 
every now and then we see a preacher hanged or the corpse 
of a relapsed convert drawn through the mud ; but formerly 
these were every-day sights. So, you see, sir, your com- 
plaints are unfounded and frivolous." 

"What business have you with laws that are no longer 
put in execution?" asked Ambroise. 

"We retain them as worthy monuments in our legis- 
lative archives and as models for future legislators, as 
being the best examples that they could follow. Moreover, 
we keep them on the statute-books so that we may put 
them into force when we have a mind to. If, unfortunately, 



THE OLD CEVENOL 99 

they should be revoked, the Protestants would indulge more 
than ever in the hope of a tranquility which they do not 
deserve, and which it would be absurd to concede to them ; 
the exiles would return ; they would go into business and 
into agriculture which are sufBciently flourishing without 
them; and our posterity would have good reason to blame 
us for making a big mistake. The Protestants are already 
as happy as they have any right to be, and, with the ex- 
ception of liberty of conscience, the liberty to own property, 
safety of their persons, the free possession of their children, 
the choice of trades and professions, they are treated almost 
the same as the rest of the king's subjects." 

The judges were silent because they saw very well that 
the rest of the company were inclined to take the view of 
the last speaker. All seemed to agree that the age of 
Louis XIV., with its strong-handed policy, was the model 
to be guided by. Talking of one thing and another, they 
at length deplored that there was no longer a Louvois or 
a Pere-la-Chaise to pursue, with regard to the Protestants, 
a policy that reflected eternal honor on the memory of those 
sagacious statesmen. Ambroise withdrew from the com- 
pany, not caring to hear any more of this kind of talk; 
but the company continued to discuss various projects for 
restoring the glorious conditions of the past. The old 
man, excited with wine, proposed all sorts of ingenious 
methods for bringing back the miscreants into the bosom 
of the church. He was enthusiastic about massacres. He 
exulted in the massacres that had taken place in Ireland, 
in Bohemia, in Piedmont and in Calabria. For more than 
a hundred years stakes had flamed, gallows had groaned 
with the weight of heretics ; there had been wheels and 
tortures and galleys. The entire table became excited. All 
agreed that the present times were degenerate ; that the 
world was growing careless of religion. They spoke in 



100 THE OLD CEVENOL 

terms of what appeared to be deserved contempt of a 
policy of peaceable toleration of innocent opinions which 
could not anyway be suppressed. But, whilst praising per- 
secution, they acknowledged that there was one difficulty. 
That, in doing so, they felt at the same time that they 
would have to approve the conduct of the Neros, the De- 
ciuses, the Julians. But the old man speedily relieved them 
of that difficulty by alleging that the Romans had no right 
to persecute, because they were in error; but that the 
French had a right to persecute, because they were in the 
right. Everybody acknowledged the force of this unan- 
swerable argument, and, having settled the problem to their 
entire satisfaction, the convives went home. 

In the morning Ambroise was much surprised at re- 
ceiving a visit from one of the convives of the previous 
evening. This man came to tell Ambroise that the old 
man who had spoken so viciously the previous evening 
had, on leaving the table, hired a post-chaise and proceeded 
immediately to Montpellier, and that he had good reason 
to suspect that this incensed partisan had gone there in 
order to procure a lettre de cachet against him. The 
Englishman, for Ambroise began to feel that he was more 
of an Englishman than ever, enquired what a lettre de 
cachet was. He was informed that it was an official order 
for his arrest and imprisonment without trial, or possibly 
without even knowing what he Avas charged with. On 
receiving this unwelcome intelligence, Ambroise started out 
the next day for England, taking his son with him. 

Once more in London, he was visited by all his friends. 
He shed tears of joy at seeing them once again in a land of 
liberty. He readily acknowledged that one can not judge 
of a country by its books, and he declared that he would 
never again leave London. He kept his promise: he lived 
to reach the age of 103. His memory and intellectual 



THE OLD CEVENOL 101 

faculties were ciear to the last. He often spoke of the 
long list of royal decrees that had been the cause of so 
much suffering to him and to others. They say, however, 
that his last thought was for France, and that he died re- 
peating the names of Henri IV. and Louis XVI. 

THE END. 



SEP u laU 



One copy del. to C^it. Div. 



err 



U ' 



c ' 



